Post-Apocalyptic Roadtrip - Another Story from the Fallout
by Dexiedoodle
Summary: A courier arrives at the gates of Sanctuary with a cryptic message for General Max Everton & an attempt is made on the life of Elder Maxson. Add to that the sudden appearance of the Lone Wanderer & whispers of the Enclave & you have yourself a pretty good start to a roadtrip - Fallout Style. A continuation of my last story - let's do this thing. (Rated M for my potty mouth)
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hi again. I am going off script with this one. Please feel free to review and please PM me if I mess up something Lore-wise and I'll rewrite. I am also very happy to take suggestions on how this thing progresses.**

 **I, as I may have said previously, have no plan and I am willing to go where ever I am led by either my own grey matter or any outside influences. My initial idea was just 'Hey, what if the gang got together and went on a road trip..." But first, lets just see what Max is up too...**

 **AN EDIT: If you haven't read A Great Big Joke - A Story from the Fallout, you might want to I seem to be referring to events in it a lot :)**

 **Chapter 1 – Re-introduction: Here's what you missed on Fallout.**

Two years ago. Maxine Lillian Everton came up out of Vault 111 and into a new somewhat horrible world. She had been a wife, a mother, a career woman and a former black ops assassin. He husband had been murdered and her son had been taken by the shadowy organisation known as the Institute.

A lot had happened in the last two years as she adjusted to her new surroundings, her new life.

There were things that she never spoke of, things she never even thought of. Her son was one of those things. She would keep the secrets of what had passed between her son and her for the rest of her life. It had not been pretty and if she were to admit it, it had scarred her in a way that could never be soothed.

Two years. She stood atop the guard tower looking out at the Commonwealth. It had gone by so fast. She took stock of the things that had happened over that time. She woke up… that was a good start considering the rest of her neighbours in the vault had not. She had been called the sole survivor of vault 111. It was not true of course. Shaun had survived as well. She made some friends, she made a home. She became a General, she met a man… she lost a man, she lost some friends. She toppled the institute. Formed an alliance with the Brotherhood of Steel (although that was complicated). She had adjusted, where others may have gone screaming into the wasteland and to their deaths. She adapted and thrived.

Sanctuary Hills was her home, her forever home.

She had a few missteps. Made a few mistakes… everyone did. But she worked through them.

Max hoisted her rifle up to her shoulder and scanned the far shore of the river. Even though Sanctuary was one of the most highly defended settlements in the whole of the Commonwealth and it was unlikely that raiders or roving bands of supermutants would ever dare come anywhere near the place, she took her stint at guard duty seriously. She didn't have to do guard duty at all. She was, after all, the General but she had always been of the mind that she would never ask anyone to do something that she would not be willing to do herself. It was probably one of the reasons that she had so much respect. That and the fact that she had almost singlehandedly wiped out more than a dozen Coursers… mostly with her bare hands.

She never set herself aloft from her people. She was approachable.

She lay the rifle down on the rail and leaned into it to peer through the scope. Far in the distance she spotted an engorged bloatfly bobbing in the undergrowth. She leaned into her rifle and slipped her finger onto the trigger. She took a calm breath and squeezed. The rifle made a pfft sound and there was a satisfying mini explosion when the oversized bullet struck the unsuspecting mutated insect. It was a waste of a .50cal round but she didn't really care.

If Max were to be honest with herself, she would admit that the Commonwealth was not really as exciting as it used to be. Before, she was out on the road all of the time helping settlements, killing raiders, Supermutants and feral ghouls. She had tamed it somewhat, neutered it and now she was more and more the administrator. The Government. Who wanted to be a Government worker? Not her.

She wanted to get out on the road again. She needed to sharpen her wits again. She hadn't been out in two whole months. Maybe tomorrow she would go over the the Prydwen and see if they needed anything. The walk would do her good. And if she left early enough then she could avoid Preston and his many… many, many boring tasks… maybe RJ would come for a walk. She doubted it… he was cosied up to Curie, after a long fought struggle... or seduction? More like begging.

She hadn't seen Elder Maxson in a while. He had cooled his jets after the last time they had spoken. Keeping things professional as he had promised he would. She should have a chat with him in person just to keep up appearances if nothing else.

She wouldn't sleep with him though. No Siree-bob, that would not be a good idea at all.

She liked him. He was a nice kid… No, she had agreed to not call him that anymore. He was a nice guy. He was an effective leader. He was a heck of a fighter. She liked him. He was also a very handsome and charismatic guy. Young though… She was even the dirty cougar who had taken the poor guys virginity. He was in love with her. She liked him… found him incredibly attractive but she didn't love him back. He said he would wait for her… he was keeping to his word. Man, it was complicated.

Max scanned the far shore again, her eyes picking up every trace of movement in the darkness. Over to the southwest, there was a herd of Radstags. She had always wondered why the people of the Commonwealth were so disgusted with the beasts. They were fired at on sight. It seemed a bit of an extreme reaction to what were essentially creatures similar to Brahmin. Max remembered what deer looked like before the war. She felt a lot of sympathy for the beasts.

To the southeast, a lone mirelurk wandered up and down the shore. A couple of bloodbugs hung around near the road. Other than that the only thing moving were the twigs in the dead trees as the soft warm breeze blew through from the east and the Atlantic.

Max looked down at the gate guards they were sitting on patio chairs on either side of a table playing cards and smoking cigarettes. She wondered if she could put a round through one of their hats. She looked down her scope at them. Danny Sullivan had a good hand, if he kept his head he could win the game. She sighed and looked at her pipboy. Christ, it was only four. She had another two hours of this.

She started planning her trip for the day. If she quickly packed and left right after her shift, she could make Diamond City by lunchtime. She could have nap and a meal and then sweet talk one of the Lancers into taking her to the Prydwen. Or she could just walk the rest of the way. Man, she was getting lazy.

She was glad her mind didn't automatically think to relay to CIT and then relay onto the Prydwens Command Deck. Nah… She would walk.

Max leaned against the rail and set her rifle down. She crossed her arms on the rail and set her chin on top. Damn, she was bored.

* * *

Elder Maxson watched as Max was greeted by Lancer Captain Kells at the door from the flight deck. This must have been one of the few times that Max had boarded the Prydwen in a conventional fashion rather than just showing up out of the blue where she was not expected.

He had been forewarned of her arrival by his squad in Diamond City and had time to gather himself into the semblance of a seasoned warrior and great leader, rather than the jittery young man that he was. He had waited patiently for her to come to her senses and see that they were supposed to be together. It had only taken her two months.

Masxon stood at his customary position on the command deck. His feet planted firmly on the deck, his hands clasped in the small of his back. The large windows behind him grandly displaying the Commonwealth. He hoped that he cut a good figure. He wanted to make a good impression on the General.

Max looked past Kells and caught Maxsons eye. She raised her hand and waved flippantly at him. He returned the gesture with a nod and a half smile. She rolled her eyes at him and walked past Kells, patting him on the back as she did so.

"Elder Maxson." She hailed him from the entrance, walking towards him with a swish of her hips and a gleam in her eye. "I was in the area, thought I'd stop by, see if you and your friends were playing nice in the Commonwealth."

"General Everton. A pleasure as always." Maxson extended his hand to her formally.

She took it and shook with a wide smile on her face, lighting up the already bright command deck.

"You remembered." She started to say. She had reintroduced the hand shake to the Elder some time ago. She found herself suddenly pulled in close and made a surprised sound as he landed a soft kiss on her cheek. Ah, yes. She had done that too. Maybe she needed to clarify that the kiss on the cheek was optional, not mandatory. She chose to ignore the extended gesture. She wasn't there yet despite the Elders hopes.

She made her face friendly, but not overly friendly.

"I know this is a belated visit but I thought it would be a good time to take stock of what we have been up to over the last couple of months. We didn't really say anything… business related the last time I saw you." She said, her tone even.

"I will order some beverages and we can retire to my quarters to…" Maxson was cut off by Maxs hand rising.

"The Mess will be fine… we won't be discussing anything earth shattering, I'm sure." The last thing she wanted was to be in Maxson private quarters right now. He was looking particularly fine today… maybe he had spruced himself up for her visit. She was going for the General and Elder vibe. Not boyfriend and girlfriend. Close quarters were a definite no-no.

Maxson frowned at her interruption before he masked his expression in composure. His eyes remained hard.

"As you wish, General." He let go of her hand and gestured for her to go before him.

She turned and walked from the room making her way to the ladder leading to the main deck above. Maxson followed not sure what he should make of the visit now. He had been sure she would come to see him for a different reason than what she was portraying… maybe she _was_ just here for a briefing?

He breathed in deeply in her wake. Carrot flower, leather, gunpowder and that certain something that hinted at true peril. He watched her climb the ladder appreciatively. She had very nice features and her leather armour enhanced them quite pleasingly he noted.

They made their way to the mess hall, which went quiet as they entered. The assembled, off-duty Brotherhood soldiers turning as one to stare at the duo. Maxson rarely visited the mess and the last time the General had been in there she had been naked… except for Maxsons battle coat… but the people there that night knew that she was naked underneath it though.

Maxson nodded towards a table which hastily emptied of its inhabitants. Max gave a flirty smile to the Mess officer. He had been on duty that night too. He blushed and busied himself by filling a clean coffee mug.

As Maxson took his seat, he was surprised that the Mess officer appeared next to Max, placing the hot brew at her elbow without being asked. Max flashed him a smile that would have melted any mans knees and Maxson felt the suddenly and irrational need to throw the man overboard. He didn't. He nodded his thanks and then Max and he began to discuss the state of the Commonwealth under the combined control of the Brotherhood and Minutemen.

The meeting itself took a few hours, they passed quickly and pleasantly enough. They didn't agree on everything… they rarely did so it was not a big worry. Proctor Ingram approached the table briefly and asked after Sophie Haylen, former Brotherhood Scribe and current Minuteman captain. She left after a prolonged glare from Maxson registered to her during her conversation with Max.

Max finally stretched languorously and looked down at her pipboy.

"Crikey, look at the time. I should go or I'll end up walking in the dark."

"You should stay." Maxson suggested, a little to eagerly.

Max gave him a long disapproving look before standing and waiting for him to do the same. He got to his feet slowly and she could see the tiny muscle in his jaw working.

She walked slightly ahead of him as they left the main deck, climbed down the ladder and then exited the command deck. It was a little windy on the flight deck and it made talking difficult, that suited Max just fine. She could feel Maxson presence behind her and knew that as soon as they were out of earshot of the crew he would start his assault on her, verbally of course, to break down her defences and attempt to get her into his bed again. If she were to be completely honest he wouldn't really need to do too much convincing. She needed to head him off at the pass.

She turned on him suddenly.

"Thanks for the hospitality, Arthur. No need for you to stand out here in the cold. One of the Lancers will take me down." She grinned at him in what she hoped was a steady and winning manner.

"I'll take you." Arthur insisted.

"No need, I'm sure you have something to attend to."

"No… I don't." He frowned. "Are you… I won't be happy until… Max, don't go yet."

"I have to," She shuffled her feet and looked down at them for a moment. "I might actually go to CIT and see if they need anything."

"Don't relay from on board the Prydwen." Maxson warned. It was a rule he implemented after he suspected that she used the relay to sneak on board.

She slammed her fist down on the rail, her eyes flashing with sudden temper. "I have a great idea… why don't you go and suck the joy out of life some more? God knows that's what the wasteland needs, more fucking misery." She struck a superior pose, her head high and back straight, "You sir, are an arsehat and I, quite frankly, will be rid of you." She disdainfully looked down her nose at him for a moment before placing her hand on the rail of the flight deck and launching herself over the side.

Maxson made a strangled sound and made a grab for her and missed. He leaned over the rail and watched in horror as her body fell like a stone towards the unforgiving ground hundreds of feet below. He blinked in disbelief as she disappeared in a flash of light before she hit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - Unexpected visitors**

Max regretted her rash decision the instant that she hit the floor of the relay room with a thud and then another thud… She bounced off the metal floor with a grunt and the air whooshed out of her lungs.

"Ohhh… Fuck… Me!" She groaned as she rolled painfully onto her knees.

"You OK, General?" The wide eyed Minuteman on duty at the relay controls asked, running to her side and helping her to her feet. She gave him a cursory glance and groaned.

"The next time I think something is a good idea… I want someone to knock me the fuck out." She moaned. "I may have just busted my pancreas or something."

"What happened, General? Shall I go get Major Curie?" The young man was seriously worried, Max was hamming it up just a little bit.

"I just jumped off the Prydwyn and relayed on the way down…" She started.

"You Did What?" Major Robert Joseph MacCreadys incredulous voice echoed off the walls as he suddenly appeared in the doorway of the relay room.

"I'm fine RJ… I was trying to make a point. And hey, at least we know that I can do that without dying now… and it's a good day when you learn something new." She tried to grin at him, but it came out as more of a grimace.

"Go get, Curie." RJ wearily ordered the minuteman, who scampered away at speed towards the elevator. RJ helped Max limp over to the control desk and sat her in the chair.

"Was your point made?" RJ asked, looking at her closely.

"I have no idea, I was plummeting to my potential death at the time." She said glibly.

"Were you in trouble? Were they chasing you or something? What happened?" RJ's normally sparkly blue eyes looked worried. Was there trouble in paradise? Had the leading duo finally decided to kill each other? It was always a possibility, they were both completely impossible.

"I was trying to reiterate to the Elder Maxson that I am, in fact, ten foot tall and bulletproof and that he is not the boss of me." She prodded at her abdomen distractedly. "I think I broke a rib"

"You almost splattered yourself all over the ground over a domestic dispute…I mean…wha…?" RJ was stupefied. Crazy… she was nuts. Maxson must be beside himself.

Maxson was beside himself, the radio at the control desk crackled to noisy life.

"Is she there?… Is she OK?" Arthur Maxsons voice boomed through the system. "Talk to me, Dammit!"

Max poked her tongue out that the radio as MacCready depressed the button to respond.

"She's fine, Elder" RJ replied tightly, casting a disapproving look at Max.

"What the fuck is wrong with that woman? Will someone please remind me why I agreed to an alliance with her?"

Max could picture him standing on the command deck casting angry, questioning looks at all of the lancers and Kells and none of them daring to answer him. She began to chuckle and grunted as her gut tightened painfully.

"Is she there? Is she listening? Maxine Everton, I swear by Steel, if you ever pull anything like that again, I will kill you… I'm serious. I will shoot you dead."

Max reached over to the radio and pushed the button. "I wasn't on board when I relayed, Arthur." She said smugly.

She was being a total bitch. She knew it. MacCready was glaring at her … yep, he knew it too.

"Anyhow, it's been real, Arthur. Talk to you later, aye?" She turned off the radio with a decisive click before he could respond and avoided MacCreadys eyes.

"What are you doing, Max?" MacCready asked.

"I have no idea what I'm doing… I thought everyone knew that by now."

"You like him… what's the big deal?"

"Shouldn't you be off smoking a cigarette or cleaning your gun or something?" She asked him huffily.

"One, Curie made me quit smoking, she doesn't like it and it was the only reason I didn't get any hot synth action earlier than I did. Two, my gun is plenty clean already, thank you very much and three, you're not going to answer are you?"

Max snorted.

"What would have been last words out of your mouth if your little stunt hadn't worked." MacCready asked curiously as the doors opened and Curie came hurrying into the relay control room follow by the young duty minuteman.

"I called Arthur an arsehat." She said sheepishly as Curie began prodding at her abdomen.

"Ha… good one." MacCready laughed. "True too."

Curie tutted to herself as she worked. Max hissed as Curie prodded too forcefully in a particularly tender spot.

"You are OK, don't be a baby." Curie admonished her.

"I see the bedside manner is coming along swimmingly." Max flinched, and shied away from Curies inquisitive fingers.

"I am not a physician… I was not programmed with a pleasant bedside manner. You should remember zat next time you think about jumping of somezing tall." Curie fussed at her, her accent thick and musical. MacCready grinned.

"See that… that's my influence, right there." He said proudly, leaning in and kissing Curie on the cheek.

Max rolled her eyes. "Just give me a Stimpak and I'll be on my way."

Curie tutted again. "It's only bruising anyway." She pulled a stimpak from the pocket of her lab coat and jabbed Max more forcefully than was necessary.

Max felt the effect straight away. She often wondered why anyone bothered with doctors at all.

"You want to go back to Sanctuary, General." The relay controller asked respectfully.

"No," She said standing up stiffly and fiddling with the dials on her pipboy. "Can you send me to these coordinates. I want to pick up my guns."

MacCready looked at her questioningly, tearing his eyes off Curie as she gathered up her doctors bag.

"I don't take my shotgun or The Last Thing onto the Prydwen. It gives them the jitters for some reason" She explained. "I stashed them just north of the airport."

"Ummm… it's late, you'll end up hiking in the dark." MacCready pointed out.

"I'm not scared of the dark RJ, the dark is scared of me." She said with a lilt in her voice, though she was going for menacing.

MacCready laughed.

"If I run, I'll get back just after dark, I won't be too late in." She smiled reassuringly.

As it was she passed the Red Rocket Station just after sundown. She jogged at a good clip and saw the friendly walls of Sanctuary looming ahead. She gave a wave to the sentries as she came close.

Max paused on the bridge about half way across the river. Albert Sheffield, the reformed Nuka Cola addict, was on gate duty tonight and he was looking at her in a very disturbing manner, almost like he was scared of her. She glanced at the other guard, a woman whose name she couldn't remember. She was eyeing her warily as well, while she was talking quickly into the gates ham radio.

Max was instantly on alert. What was going on?

She glanced up at the tower. She could see worried eyes peering down at her from there as well. Something had happened in Sanctuary while she had been gone. Something bad. Something that no one wanted to talk to her about.

She squared her shoulders and started forward again. No doubt Preston would be hurrying to the gate to tell her all about it. She sighed. Back to the bureaucratic grind. Strong had probably shown up again… no one liked Strong.

As she suspected, Preston was standing just inside the gate, hat in hand and an anxious expression on his face.

"General…" He said hesitantly.

"Why in Gods name do you have to pounce on me as soon as I step through the fucking gate?" She snapped peevishly, knowing full well that it was rude and that she should be ashamed of herself, talking to him that way. She was tired and she had less control on her emotions than she used to. It was no excuse.

She tried to lighten the tone of her next words. "Fuck Preston, let me get my breath at least." She said it wearily and her tone was still too sharp. Something was going on and she didn't really want to know what it was. She didn't want to have to deal with any more problems until morning.

"Sorry Max, but a courier arrived for you this afternoon and he said that he would only give the message to you…" Preston looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn't. He just sort of, regarded her awkwardly.

"What's going on?" She asked suspiciously, "What's with everyone? You're looking at me like I've sprouted another head and it ain't as pretty as this one."

"He… ahhh… He … You should meet him for yourself." Preston bit his lip. She wouldn't believe him if he told her anyway.

"Fine." Her temper had died away and resignation has set in. "Can you ask Codsworth to brew me a coffee?" She smiled weakly at Preston by way of an apology. He looked like he was going to be sick.

Max walked towards the visitors house, reaching up and unbuckling her helmet as she went. She stepped up to the door and rapped sharply on it. She ran her hand quickly over her hair in a half hearted attempt to tidy it and tucked her helmet under her arm.

The door opened and Max suddenly forgot how to breathe.

Warm, chocolate coloured eyes looked down at her.

"D-Danse?" She breathed the word, her voice stuttering and dying on her lips.

"Huh?"

She leaped at him, securing her arms around his neck in a vice grip and kissing him with shuddering intensity. She felt strong arms snake around her waist, holding her to him… but it wasn't right.

Something was wrong… The kiss was wrong.

She detached herself from him and pulled away, looking up into his face with hurt confusion. Danse didn't kiss her like that.

It wasn't Danse. Now, she was looking at him closely she could see the differences.

This man didn't have a scar running over his right eye and down onto his cheek. This guy had a scar scoring its way across his left temple and into his hairline. He was leaner and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Danse had furrows in his forehead from all of his silly frowning. He was buried on the hill above the vault.

Oh God, it wasn't Danse.

She stumbled back from him. Anger, confusion… She wasn't sure what she was feeling, but it hurt her and she didn't like it one bit. She stood glaring at him, taking deep breaths and forcing down the muddle of feelings that suddenly jumbled up in her head. He looked like Danse. Same height, same hair colour, eye colour, skin tone. The rest of the features were Danses. Why did he look like Danse?

"Who are you?" She asked quietly, her voice trembling with emotions that she could no longer suppress.

"Hey lady, I'm just a courier. I'm waiting for the General." He held up his hands in the air, almost as confused as her. She just tried to suck his soul out through his lips and then she had suddenly turned cold fish on him.

Boone appeared at his shoulder and he looked down at the distressed lady with concern.

"You OK, Ma'am?" He asked gently, shouldering past the Courier and coming to stand in between them. His voice was soft and gruff, she focused on this new man instead of the disturbing one that hovered just behind him.

She took a deep breath and looked over the new guy. Another tall man, dressed in desert fatigues and well maintained army boots. A blood red beret fitted snuggly to his head, an unfamiliar logo sewn onto the front. A pair of aviator sunglasses peeked out from the front pocket of his pants.

His skin was darkly tanned and he would have been blond if his head hadn't been shaved. His eyes were light green and tinged with deep seated sorrow. He looked to be in his early thirties and he held himself like a military man. She could talk to this guy.

She cleared her throat. "I just got a shock." She dismissed his concern with a small smile, her voice finding its strength again. "Your friend doesn't know it but he looks exactly like a friend of mine."

"A _really_ close friend by the looks…" came a muttered addendum from behind Boone.

She blanched and Boone glared over his shoulder at the Courier, who opened his eyes wide in innocence.

"What? I was just saying." The Courier defended himself inaudibly.

Max straightened her shoulders and her eyes hardened.

"I am General Maxine Everton of the Commonwealth Minutemen." She said with reclaimed authority, her emotions no longer betraying her. "I believe you have a message for me."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – Let's Danse**

Max looked across the table at the two men her eyebrow raised, her lips pursed and her face skeptical.

"That's the whole message?" She asked. She had led them to her office in the Vault. The Courier sat before her on one of the wore office chairs, his feet thrust out in front of him. She had pushed thoughts of Danse from her mind, but it was distracting to have _his_ eyes looking back at her.

"Yep," The man known as the Courier answered with a nod, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest.

"You walked all the way from Las Vegas… for that?" She reiterated doubtfully.

"Yep... it was good caps."

"Someone paid you _good caps_ to walk almost _three thousand miles_ from Vegas to Boston for a message consisting of _one_ sentence… that I don't even understand." She said. Going over the message in her head again trying to make heads or tails of it.

"You understand the concept of a courier, right?" The Courier said with a chuckle. "People pay me caps to carry messages and/or packages from one place to another… the meaning behind said messages and/or packages are not the responsibility of the Mojave Express."

The other guy, Boone, said nothing as he leaned against the wall, cigarette hanging from his mouth and a grim set to his features.

"And who paid you to bring the message to me?… How does anyone in Vegas even know who I am?

"Elder Nolan McNamara. And, I don't know"

"Elder? Fucking Brotherhood…" She sighed. "I need to talk to Maxson again."

She shook her head slowly as she contemplated another trip to the Prydwen and to her would be suitor. She cringed. The courier watched her silently, her faced showing her distaste at talking to this Maxson person. Her eyes softened after a moment as she thought. Huh? Not entirely distasteful then.

He flexed his shoulders and stood up.

"So my job is done then. Don't suppose you have anything to send to New Vegas or anywhere in between? He said hopefully.

She snapped out of her reverie and looked up at him. She drummed her fingertips on the desktop for an awkward moment or two, contemplating him.

"I'd like to get a DNA sample from you." She said thoughtfully. Her pretty eyes boring into his face and moving over the rest of his body with interest.

"DNA sample?"

"Mmmm…" She nodded. "I have a theory about you, I need to see if I'm right or I won't be able to sleep at night. I'll pay you for your time, of course."

"Does this have anything to do with me looking like your friend?" He asked.

"It has everything to do with you looking like my friend… What do you say? A hundred caps for some blood or whatever?" She leaned forward anticipating his answer.

A hundred caps for some blood. Hell, he spilled it for free all of the time. What could it hurt, if it gave the pretty lady some peace of mind. He shrugged and nodded in consent. "Sure, why not… caps up front though."

She smiled and he caught his breath. She sure was pretty.

She left her chair and went through a door into an antechamber and came back a moment later with a bag of caps. "Count it, then we can go."

"Go?" he asked, taking up the bag and emptying out the caps on the desk.

"CIT will draw the blood from you… or I can just open a vein right here if you want? It may be a little painful and a lot more messy…"

He glanced up from his counting. "You wanna do this thing right now?"

"The sooner, the better. You wanted to leave in the morning, right?"

"Yeah." He continued counting.

She walked over to the ham radio on the corner of the desk. She tuned it and depressed the talk button.

"Hey CIT, come back?"

"General." Came the tinny reply through the speakers.

"I got one to relay to CIT in a few minutes. Can you stand by?"

"Yes Ma'am. Standing by."

"Can you also get Curie and Dr Virgil to meet me in the control room?"

"Yes, ma'am, consider it done." The radio crackled and then fell silent.

"Relay? And one? Am I going alone?" The Courier asked, casting a look at Boone, who had tipped his head forward and was looking over the rims of his aviators, eyebrows raised.

"A relay is a method of travel. A teleporter." She explained. "I can use this…" She tapped her pipboy. "but you can't."

The Courier pulled back the sleeve of his duster, exposing a pipboy of his own secured on his wrist.

"You're from a Vault." She asked in surprise.

"Nope, it was a gift. I can use it to 'relay' though?"

"No, you need a special chip to access the relay tethers." She said. "Your friend can come too if you want… it won't take long though."

"Yeah, I'll come." Boone rumbled from his position on the wall. He pushed himself off it and came to stand next to the Courier who rose slowly from his chair.

"OK then, you ready?" She asked walking back to the radio.

Both of the men nodded and exchange long dubious looks. She amended her order to the guy on the other end of the radio and grinned at them. "See you on the other side, boys."

There was a crackling sound and a flash of blinding blue light as they relayed from the office. They appeared seconds later in the relay room. Wide eyed and shaken. What a rush!

"Well, Fuck Me Twice," the Courier breathed. "I say, God Damn!"

A young guy behind a desk outside the room motioned them forward.

They moved towards him hesitantly and turned as the room behind them began to make a whirring sound. The General appeared a split second after they exited the room.

She grinned at their stunned expressions.

"Welcome to CIT." She greeted them. She was going to say more but a door at the other end of the hall opened and two people in Lab coats hurried into the room. The small dark haired woman stopped when she saw the Courier. "Merde." She gasped. The other doctor blinked in surprise as well. The Courier wished that people would stop doing that.

Max nodded at them. "Virgil, did the Institute ever make two copies of the same synth?"

Virgil shook his head eyeing up the Courier with interest. "Not that I know of, but I didn't have too much to do with the synths."

"How far afield do you think they went for samples? I thought they took the original people and disposed of them, like with Roger Warwick." She continued.

"We might have to do a little digging into that… I guess some of the originals got away. There are some scientists left here that would have a much better idea than me."

Max Frowned. "Would Secord know?"

Virgil nodded. "I'll talk to her." Max wasn't fond of the remaining scientists from the old Institute, Secord in particular, being the former director of the SRB. Max shot the director before her, Justin Ayo in the face the first time she had traveled to the institute, ending his career rather abruptly.

"Thank you." Max smiled.

"Curie. Mr… ahh… Sorry, I never got your name?" She turned to the Courier and looked at him apologetically.

"Courier." He replied shortly.

"Your actual name is Courier?"

He nodded "Courier Six."

She looked at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. She shrugged and turned back to the lady doctor.

"Mr Six has agreed to a DNA test and can you scan for synth components too?"

Curie nodded and beckoned him forward. The Courier exchanged another long look with his friend before following the doctor, Boone followed him and Max took up the rear of the troop, talking softly to Dr Virgil. They got into a sterile looking elevator and it began to descend.

"Can I ask where we are?" The Courier inquired. He got the feeling that they were nowhere near Sanctuary Hills anymore.

"We're underneath Cambridge… do you know Boston at all?" Max replied.

"Not really…" He drew in a quick breath as the reason for the elevators glass sides came into view and the facility spread out around them. White, bright and teeming with life.

Boone pulled off his aviators and blinked in the light, looking around in wonder as they descended into the central courtyard and the doors of the elevator opened.

They stepped out and followed Max and the doctors up some stairs into a spotless laboratory. The lady doctor motioned towards a chair sitting next to a trolley holding all manner of unholy looking instruments.

"Please 'ave a seat Mr Courier." She invited, her voice sweet and thickly accented.

The courier sat down in the chair and looked around at the lab with interest.

"I have to ask, couldn't help overhearing, considering you were talking right in front of me. But what is a Synth? What is the Institute?' He asked, standing up again to remove his duster so that the doctor could get at the veins in his arm.

"A synth is a Synthetic Human, like a clone. They are wholly organic except for a chip in their heads. The Institute was the organisation that manufactured them, among other things." Max advised him watching as Curie drew a vial of blood and then went back in for another.

The courier flinched back from a device that Curie then held up to the back of his head. It was cold.

" 'e's not a synth." Curie proclaimed. " 'e might be ze original Danse?"

Max nodded. "We still have all of the records, can we do a bit of research?"

She looked down at the courier "Have you ever been to this side of the country before?"

"Nope. You think someone made a clone of me? A Synth?"

"We don't think, we know." She walked over to a terminal and began tapping on the keyboard. She motioned for him to join her. He came over beside her, rolling down the sleeve of his top as he went. He leaned over her shoulder and squinted at the screen. Starting as he saw a picture of himself.

"This is Paladin Major Richard Alexander Danse." She introduced him grandly, a hint of sadness in her voice. "The synth known as M7-97."

The Courier looked hard at the picture. He wasn't sure how he felt looking at the fake him.

Boone sidled up behind them and snuck a peek at the screen. He uttered a 'humpf' and went back to leaning against the wall. He drew a cigarette from his pocket and placed in between his lips before patting himself down, looking for his lighter. Curie walked past him and whipped the smoke from his mouth, crushing it in her hand and throwing it in the trash. Boone scowled after her.

"Zere is not smoking in ze lab, monsieur." She muttered before turning to Max. "Ze DNA matches, 'e is definitely ze template for Danse.'

"Why?" She asked absently, staring at the Couriers face. "and how? If you've been on the West Coast and in the desert all this time, how did they even get your DNA?

"We will go over the files, see if we can find anything." Virgil promised. "Can you lend me Sophie to help?"

"Sure, but that means you'll get Elton as well." Max grinned. Haylen and Sturges were damn near impossible to separate, everyone was expecting a wedding announcement any day now.

"Good, good. I like Sturges, he fixed my coffee maker last time he was here." Virgil ran his hand through his hair. It was habit he had adopted a while ago, after the transformation from a supermutant back into a human had somehow stimulated his hair follicles and regrew his hair. It wasn't a popular method for treating hair loss, so no one else had tried it yet.

"If you don't mind?" The Courier said, "I'd like to hang around a while. Here or Sanctuary. I'm a little curious about this myself."

"You can stay in Sanctuary for as long as you want." Max told him with another one of her brilliant smiles. "We should get back, I've been on the road all day and I imagine considering how far you've come, you'll need some sleep as well."

Max turned to the doctors. "Can you give this some priority? I don't want to hold up Mr Six for any longer than is necessary." Both of the doctors nodded and Max led the Courier and Boone from the lab.

She heard Boone snort and mutter on the elevator ride back up to the relay. "Mr Six… ha"

She heard a light thud, sounded like an elbow hitting ribs. "Shut up, man."

She smiled, keeping her face forward, listening to the two men quietly bicker behind her until the elevator door opened on their floor. She led them to the relay and used her pipboy to load up the coordinates for just inside the visitors house in Sanctuary.

The two men entered the relay room and watched her expectantly. She lifted her hand and gave a little wave and they relayed out.

"Can you please stand by to receive Captain Haylen and Major Sturges?" She asked the controller before she entered the relay herself.

He nodded and she was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – Maxson Down**

Courier Six was beginning to think that walking across the country was not the best idea that he had ever had. The caps had been good, no denying that but he wasn't hard up for caps. He took the job because he thought it sounded fun… getting out and seeing the world a little more, a bit of adventure with his best friend at his side. It might broaden his horizons a bit.

He decided the night before that his horizons were plenty broad. There are some things that you just didn't need to know. He didn't need to know that someone had made a clone of him. He could have gone his whole life without knowing that and he would have been just fine with that.

If he hadn't come though, he wouldn't have seen the Commonwealth, probably the most stable area he had seen yet. He wouldn't have used a relay or seen CIT or been kissed by that stunner of a General. And he wouldn't have known that someone had made a clone of him, a synth. Was ignorance really bliss? And if he'd turned down the job for McNamara, Veronica would have done the 'look' thing that she did so well… with the puppy dog eyes and shaky lip. Damned emotional blackmail.

He was sitting outside the Visitors house just inside the gate of Sanctuary. His legs were stretched far out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, his arms crossed over his chest and his hat pulled down low over his eyes. With his sunglasses on, the passing settlers could be forgiven for thinking that he was asleep. But he was watching them.

Boone was up in the tower helping the perimeter guards. He had asked about it first thing in the morning, hitching up his rifle and stalking up to the man, Garvey and saying briefly and gruffly that he would be pitching in. He'd been up there all day. Courier would have to go up there and drag him down at some stage, otherwise he'd be up there all night as well.

Courier watched the people as they went about their day. Garvey was everywhere, talking to people, talking on the radio by the gate, up at the vault. He was a colonel, he had said. The Minutemen were a military organisation it seemed, though they all looked pretty 'down home' to the Courier. Some people held military ranks. He'd met colonels, majors and captains. He had ascertained the Sanctuary was like a staging area of sorts, an administrative camp? Or something? People and things came here to be distributed to other settlements. The main fort was over on the coast and was grandly called the Castle and was run by a colonel called Shaw… he'd met the old battle axe a couple of days ago. He'd gone there first, looking for the General.

Couriers eyes darted to the road. There was the General.

She was something else to look at. She was tall and moved with grace. She seemed a little flighty though. Seemed emotional. Kissed like a firecracker. He wondered how a pretty little thing like her became the leader of a Militia and struck up an alliance with the Brotherhood of Steel. Her people looked at her like she was some kind of Messiah. He wondered if she knew how to use that massive rifle on her back or if she just had it there for show.

Boone had acted weird the day before… when Courier had opened the door for the General. The Courier had been unceremoniously shoved aside and Boone had spoken to the woman… Bonne had never done anything like that before… not in the eight years he had known him had Boone been so overt. He glanced back up to the tower, he could see the unmistakable back of Boones head, his First Recon beret firmly in place.

"Excuse me, Mr Six?"

God damn, he hated that.

"Courier's fine." He grunted, and looked up at the brunette who had appeared by his side.

She smiled down at him and took a seat in the patio chair next to him.

"My name's Piper Wright and I'm a journalist. Publick Occurances. I was wondering if you'd be willing to do an interview with me… about you know, wandering the country and the things you've seen on the way to the Commonwealth and what things are like back West? My readers would find it fascinating." She spoke quickly, her eyes darting over him, taking in every little detail of his clothes, his weapons, the pipboy on his arm and the scar on his temple.

He grunted. NO. "Tell you what little lady, I'd love to indulge you… but I'm not going to." He stood up from his comfy spot and walked into the house shutting the door firmly behind him. He looked out through the window and watched the woman scribble some stuff down on a note pad and scurry off. She was stopped on the road by the General who looked like she was questioning what she was up to. She listened to the reply glanced over at the house and grinned. She patted the woman, Piper, on the cheek and said something like 'oh, too bad" and popped her bottom lip out.

Courier smiled, he liked the General… she was alright.

As he was watching, Colonel Garvey ran up to the General and started talking to her urgently. Oh crap, something was up. The smile slid from the General lips and she motored towards the gate, taking up the radio and talking into it. Courier went back outside and strode over to the gate, catching the end of the conversation.

"… only coordinates I know are inside Arthurs quarters. I'll be there in a minute." She looked up at Courier as he approached, his face curious.

"Courier? Can I borrow your sniper? I'll pay for his time." She was pale and looked worried.

"If it's OK with Boone, it's OK with me. You want me to come along as well… what's happened?"

"Do you know anything about sniping?" She asked.

"A little." He shrugged.

"Then come." She raised her voice. "Craig Boone. We're gonna relay in a minute"

Boone peered over the edge of the tower and nodded.

"What's happened." The Courier asked again.

"Elder Maxson has been shot." She replied shortly, before tapping at her pipboy and disappearing in a flash.

They were met at the relay by a young guy, that the General called RJ. He had a nice looking .308 rifle strapped to his back with a high tech looking recon scope on it. He nodded at the two men and the three of them relayed out again. This time appearing in what looked like someones bedroom.

Courier marvelled at it, within a few minutes they were on the other side of the Commonwealth. Tech like this could make him and his kind redundant.

They were met at the door of the room by a Brotherhood of Steel officer.

"General…" He greeted her, a pall over his dark skin.

"Where is he? Is he OK?" she asked urgently.

"Cade has him in surgery. We'll know more shortly."

"Kells, show me where it happened." She ordered, forgetting that she was not actually in charge of the Brotherhood. Apparently, Kells forgot as well, nodding and leading her to the Command Deck.

"He was shot here?" She uttered in disbelief. This was where Maxson stood almost every day looking out over the Commonwealth through the huge plate glass windows. She even knew the exact spot on the floor that he occupied. Max saw the large hole in the glass and a whistling breeze pulled through it, adding an eerie feel to the already tainted deck. Blood splattered the metal floor and pooled in the spot where Maxson fell.

Max knelt down and examined the hole in the window. She stood and took a few steps back until she was in the spot that Maxson customarily stood. She stood up tall, planted her feet and clasped her hands together in the small of her back, mimicking his usual stance.

"I need to know exactly where on his body he was hit." She said peering out at the Commonwealth below. "I need to know where the bullet hit him, how far it penetrated and get me some string." Kells nodded and sent a runner to the infirmary.

Boone came forward and looked at the hole in the glass as well.

"Big Round…I'd say .50cal." He grunted. He took his own modified rifle off his shoulder and raised the scope to his eye scanning the area for possible hides. "I could've taken him down from anywhere." He muttered.

Max nodded absently, her mind racing.

The Courier stood back and watched them all. He didn't really know why he had come other than to keep an eye on his friend. He saw now why she was the leader. She was calm, reasonable and took control when other lost their heads. The runner came back and he had another guy with him. A guy that glared at the General with undisguised malice. He had a white dot painted on his jump suit, just left of center in his chest.

"Paladin Rhys." She greeted him coolly. She took his arm and placed him where she had been standing and then arranged him into the same posture. "You're the same height?" She asked. The paladin nodded shortly, keeping the pose.

"RJ, Boone, the string please." She ordered. RJ stood at the window holding one end of the string at the hole and Boone held the other end to the dot on the Paladins chest. Max pulled her rifle off her shoulder and lined it up with the string peering through it at the City of Boston beyond.

She muttered indistinctly. "Hotel… Boone take this… the roof, floor below?"

She took Boones place hold the string and Boone hefted her rifle and raised the scope to his eye. He adjusted the sights and nodded.

"With me" she ordered. "Rhys, give your Pipboy to Boone."

* * *

The Courier had hung back, there was nothing for him to do but when the General and Boone vanished all eyes turned to him and he silently swore to himself. Well shit… looks like the General never got around to telling the Brotherhood that he looked like their dead Paladin.

The other Sniper, RJ MacCready came up to him, ignoring the open mouthed stares of the Brotherhood soldiers.

"Hey, you must be the Courier. Sorry, I wasn't around to meet you last night at CIT… I was sleepy." He grinned.

The Courier smiled back noting the very unnerving look he was getting from the Paladin known as Rhys. He hated to guess what that look meant. The glowering paladin, was rubbing at his naked wrist, where a pipboy had been a few minutes ago. How many people had pipboys? He thought about it hard. Garvey had one and MacCready, he glanced down at RJ's left wrist adorned with his one.

"We should probably get you out of here before these folks turn hostile." MacCready said softly, "Your face is causing quite a stir and without Max here…" RJ bobbed his head at Kells and Kells lead them out of the Command Deck to wait for Max and Boone to return.

* * *

"Textbook shot." Boone muttered.

Max had to agree. They found the snipers nest on the penthouse floor of a dilapidated hotel less than a mile from the Prydwen. They found a sleeping bag, some empty tins and the tell tale spent shell. Boone was on one knee leaning into his scope aiming at the Prydwens glass faced command deck.

"Perfect conditions, sun behind him, not a breath of wind. Been here a few days by the looks, heaps of time to track Maxsons movements." Max slammed her fist into the crumbling wall, stepping back quickly as it rained dust down on her.

She didn't really need the sniper with her, but it was nice to have someone competent to confirm her theories. MacCready didn't quite have the know how, being self taught. He was crack shot but she wasn't sure how he was with actually calculating the really long shots.

There was nothing else in the nest to identify the shooter, they looked around carefully, tracking the escape route and trying to find anything to tell them who had tried to kill the Elder. The area was clean.

"Tidy." She mumbled under her breath. Fuck it.

Boone set his rifle down and stood up. "Good prep." He grunted.

"Yep, all planned out, but they didn't kill him." She hoped they hadn't kill him. "Let's get back, there's nothing here accept the spent shell."

Boone nodded and looked down at the unfamiliar Pipboy on his wrist, fiddling with the dials to tune into the tether signal like she had shown him.

"Thanks, Boone."

He looked over at her, peering over the rims of his aviators. "No problem, didn't do much good."

"Thanks all the same." She smiled and disappeared.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Brief shout out to a little Kiwi film reference in this chapter. Let me know what you think of how it's going... still setting up the story & characters mind.**

 **Chapter 5 – What About That Guy?**

"They might not have been the best shot in the world, but they knew what they were doing otherwise" Max was saying. "They'd been there three to five days, left nothing discernible at the site accept the shell. They escaped by water, either swam it or had a boat."

"We can test the shell. Maybe ballistics, DNA or fingerprints will tell us something…" Neriah didn't sound too hopeful.

An exhausted looking Proctor Cade came into the room and slumped in a chair. "He'll be alright, hit a little too close to the heart for my liking though." He took one of the cigarettes offered by several people and selected which flame from many offered lighters to use to light it. "I'll monitor him overnight and keep him in the infirmary for a week or so."

Kells, Ingram, Neriah and Quinlan sighed in relief. Max could imagine the disarray that would have erupted if Maxson had died. Maxson was the binding agent that kept the Brotherhood together. Without him, they would crumble.

"When will we be able to see him?" Max asked hopefully.

"I can call on you as soon as he wakes in the morning" Cade assured her.

With the worry finally off Maxson, every eye in the room turned as one towards the Courier and then back to Max for an explanation.

* * *

It has been said that doctors make the worst patients… that was proven completely untrue when it came to dealing with the young Elder Maxson. Cade had left the infirmary for a brief ablution break and returned minutes later to an empty cot. The Elder was found on the command deck examining the scene of his attempted assassination. He was barefoot and shirtless and he steadfastly refused to return to the infirmary until he'd looked over everything himself. Cade was beside himself, unsure of who exactly had the authority to order Maxson back to the infirmary, seeing as he was getting nowhere himself.

"Arthur, go back to bed." Max was leaning at the entrance to the deck, her arms crossed and her eyes stern. "Now."

Maxson looked like he was about to argue with her. She held up her hand and addressed the power armoured guards at the hatch to the flight deck.

"Knights… please assist Elder Maxson back to the infirmary." She asked politely. The men exchanged a long look with each other and then advanced on the Elder.

"This is a mutiny." Maxson protested angrily.

"You can think of it as mutiny if it makes you feel better, Arthur." She grinned at him. "But it's just a temporary change of leadership for the duration of your convalescence."

Maxson was 'assisted' back to the infirmary and Cade checked him over, tutting to himself as he did. Maxson had popped one of his stitches as he had descended the ladder to the deck below and Cade gathered his tools to restitch it. The knights returned to their station with a nod at the General, who leaned in the doorway, watching Cade work and making sure that Maxson stayed where he was supposed to be.

"What am I going to do with you, Elder. I turn my back for just a few days and you go and get yourself shot." She chided him gently.

"Tell me what's being done." He ordered bluntly.

"You'll get a full briefing when you get your strength back."

"There's nothing wrong with my ears, Max." Maxson growled.

Max sighed. "Fine, you were hit with a single .50cal round from just under a mile away. There is a dilapidated hotel to the southwest. We found the abandoned nest on the penthouse floor. The distance, glass and your armour stopped most of the damage, but shoddy aim is what saved your life… and Cade of course." She flashed a smile at the doctor. "The shooter made a clean break, escaped by water and left the place spotless. But we found the casing, it's being checked. Neriah might find something. They were good at escaping, if not the shooting."

"So you have nothing." Maxson glared at her. "Need a full report in my hands by noon."

Maxs lips twitched into her infamous crooked smile. She strolled over the Cades desk picked up a pencil and scrawled on a scrap piece of paper and handed it to Maxson, just as Cade had finished taping the gauze over his wound and administered a Stimpak.

Maxson read Maxs report. _'Stop being a Dick!'_ and glared at her again.

"You're on bedrest until Cade releases you. No ifs, buts or maybes."

Maxson looked sullen as he lay back down on his cot. There was no way he was staying in bed for any amount of time, the set of his jaw said that loud and clear.

"Tell you what, Arthur," Max walked over to him, smiling down at his face with a sweetness that made Maxsons stomach suddenly tighten. "I will give you one kiss for every day you spend in the infirmary… making absolutely no trouble for Proctor Cade." He raised his eyebrows at this. "You don't deserve one today but let's call this one an advance on future good behaviour."

She leaned over his cot and touched her lips to his. She meant it to be a brief and chaste kind of kiss but she felt his hand reach up and tangle itself in her hair, holding her mouth to him, drawing out the kiss for as long as he could. She smiled against his lips and let it happen. She was pink in the face and laughing when she finally got free of him. She put a soft hand to his cheek affectionately and stepped away from the cot, turning to the doctor whose expression was unconvincingly benign.

"He's all yours, Cade. Let me know if he doesn't behave himself." She grinned at the Doctor and winked before she cast one more look at the prone Elder and left the infirmary.

Maxson looked over at Cade with wide eyes. "How long can you draw out this bed rest?"

They heard a musical laugh from the corridor. Max had very good hearing.

As it was, Maxson was on his best behaviour for the whole week and was released, as promised, with a seven kiss tally. He was warned to take things slow and he would, if it made Max happy. He found mounds of unread reports in his quarters and he settled in to catch up on what he had missed out on.

* * *

Zac Hobson was pretty good at infiltrating sites that were otherwise difficult, if not impossible to get into. It was a skill he had honed over the years, at first out of necessity and later just for the challenge.

He hung back from Boston airport and watched it from the far shore of the harbour in the dubious comfort of the tower in the old Customs House. The Brotherhood of Steels flagship hung ponderously above the old control tower only a couple of miles away.

The key to this whole mission would be surprise. He needed to catch Elder Maxson off guard for maximum effect. Getting onto the ship would be no worries… getting onto the ship without Maxson finding out was going to be the challenge.

He gathered up his supplies and made sure that the special pistol he'd picked up just outside of the Commonwealth was fully loaded and ready to fire, before he left the tower into the bright morning sunlight. He trekked north along the harbour side looking for a place to cross that didn't involve getting his feet nor any other part of him wet. The first bridge turned out to be a fair distance from the Prydwens mooring and he had to turn south again, to trek all the way back again on the other side of the water.

Zac approached the walls of the airport openly, making no move to hide or sneak. When he came before the power armoured knight at the gate, he requested an audience with Proctor Ingram and after giving his name, he waited outside the gate for his requested to be acknowledged.

Not long after talking to Ingram, he was standing on the flight deck of the Prydwen itself.

Confidence was the key… surprise and confidence he amended. Always look like you belong wherever you are and that you know exactly what you are doing. He nodded at the knights on either side of the hatch to the interior of the ship and he was then inside the Command deck. So close now.

He took the ladder down to the main deck and turned to the door of Elder Maxsons berth.

Zac eased open the door and crept into the room.

There was Maxson, sitting at the table pouring over piles of documents with a distracted frown on his brow. Zac raised his pistol, zeroing in on the Brotherhood Elder. It was time Maxson got what was coming to him.

"I've got you now, Maxson. Reach for the sky" He grated, deliberately making his voice low, gravelly and mean.

The Elder looked up in surprise, His eyes widened in shock as he recognised the man in the doorway… He was about to speak…

Zac froze as he felt the cold, hard barrel of a gun pressed to a rather exposed spot just behind his right ear and a womans soft voice whispered seductively in his ear "I suggest you put the gun down sweetheart, or your brain is going to learn what a 10mm round tastes like."

Maxson smiled smugly as the would-be encroacher lowered his pistol and felt a soft, warm hand take it from him. He heard it clatter to the floor somewhere far behind him.

"A little help…" Zac entreated Maxson meaningfully, tilting his head to release some of the pressure from the gun pressing uncomfortably against his skull.

"Max, it's OK. This is Zac Hobson, a friend from the Capital. I told you about him." Arthur was talking to the person attached to the voice behind him. The uncharacteristic smile still on his face… the voice didn't sound like it belonged to a 'Max' but he felt the gun barrel leave the spot behind his ear and he let out a relieved sigh.

"So, all of your friends regularly greet you by pointing guns at you?" The voice asked smoothly.

Maxson shrugged. "This one does… it was a water gun."

Zac turned slowly and finally got a good look at the woman attached to that voice. He tried to keep his face composed as his gaze fell upon her but his heart stopped dead, his mouth dried up and the filter between his brain and mouth ceased to function.

"Holy shit, Arthur, Is this your girl…?" Zac blurted, looking her up and down in amazement. "Good job, man." He congratulated Maxson.

Maxson actually blushed and Max was looking right at him when he did it, though he lowered his eyes to the table top. What had he told Zac Hobson exactly, Max wondered with a little bit of irritation. She slipped her 10mm back into its holster at her hip. She chose to ignore it, for now, and looked back at the guy in front of her.

"Zac Hobson? Yep, I remember the name." She said. "Though I understand you go by a pseudonym as well…" She cocked her eyebrow at him and her lips adopted a crooked little half smile. Holy SHIT, she was sexy.

"It's, ah… the Lone Wanderer." He said a little sheepishly under her unwavering stare.

She stared at him for a beat longer before unleashing a heart breaking grin. "That's Badass. I got Sole Survivor. Untrue but it has a ring to it, don't you think?"

She glanced over at Maxson, whose eyes were looking at each of them in turn, tinged with a little unease.

"Sorry about the whole gun to the head thing." She added. "It's been a week, what with Arthur getting shot and all, you can understand how seeing someone else pointing a gun at him could be misconstrued."

Zac looked sharply at Maxson but he shook his head negligibly in response.

Max looked over at Maxson "You all good now? No more potential assassins on board that you know of?"

"I think I can manage now, thank you." Maxson smiled at her, Zac rolled his eyes at the sappy look on his face.

"Cool. I'm going to break the Power Armour jump record now." She advised happily before smiling and nodding at Zac and leaving the room, quickly shutting the door behind her.

Maxsons smile slid off his face and he started to stand to go after her, but he grimaced and sat down again looking defeated.

"Seriously, Arthur… Her?" Zac chuckled gleefully. "I mean shit, I'm actually surprised you're still one piece. Where'd she throw my gun?"

Maxson sighed as Zac hooted with laughter and ducked out of the room. He came back a moment later dropping his Thirst Zapper on the table. He pulled out the chair on the opposite side of the table and folded himself into it. He thumped his elbows onto the table and leaned forward conspiratively.

"We'll get to all of the hellos and getting shot and shit soon, I promise." He said with devilish grin. "First, you're gonna tell me all the gruesome details involving that woman."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Oh yeah... I forgot to tell you…**

Maxson had taken his customary position on the command deck. It was basically a big 'fuck you' to whomever had shot him.

Max reclined on one of the chairs behind him watching as he scanned the city as if looking for some clue as to who wanted him dead. Fact was, there were quite a few people who wanted him dead. Max could name a dozen off the top of her head but none of them had the ability to make that shot… except the Gunners. The shady mercs routinely hired snipers of varying degrees of talent. If someone like MacCready had taken the shot, he may have had the same result. She didn't want to denigrate her friends skill, but if it had been her taking the shot, Maxson would be very much dead now instead of glaring down at her city. The mercs may have done it or been hired to do it. She would have to go and look into it.

There was the sound of raucous laughter coming from the entryway, a rare sound on the Brotherhood of Steel vessel, and moments later Zac Hobson, the Lone Wanderer himself and Robert Joseph MacCready stumbled into the room. MacCready was in a headlock and Zac was dragging him through the door noogying him with ferocity.

Maxson swivelled his body around and looked at them disapprovingly before turning back to his observation of the Commonwealth.

"Do you know who this little fucktard is?" Zac demanded of Max with a wide grin.

Max raised an eyebrow at the two of them as MacCready got free, gave Zac a hard shove and went out looking for his hat.

"I was aware that you had met before..." Max replied with amusement.

"Little prick called me a Mungo and threatened to blow my head off." Zac laughed and chuffed RJ on the shoulder as he came back into the room with his hat once again firmly in place.

"I was thirteen and drunk on power, alright?" MacCready laughed.

Lancer Captain Kells appeared in the entranceway before she could respond to the two grinning idiots.

"General." He nodded in greeting, "CIT are on the radio for you, ma'am."

"Thank you, Kells." Max replied with a smile before hauling herself out of her seat and following him down to Operations.

Max took up the radio. "Everton here, CIT"

" 'allo Max." Curies dulcet voice came back through the tinny sounding system. "We 'ave found some information on ze Courier - Danse situation in ze databanks… Do you want us to come to you?"

"No, I'll come down." She glanced at Kells, remembering a conversation from the previous day, "Curie, any word on when the Prydwens new window will be ready?"

"Zut!" Curie breathed down the line. "Quinlan was supposed to tell zem. We 'ave decided to replace all of ze windows on ze deck. We found a formula for transparent aluminium in the databank. Much stronger than ze tempered glass zat zey 'ave now. Will be a few days and we will send up a crew to install zem."

"Cool, I'm going to pick up the Courier then I'll be down. Out." She turned to Maxson, who had followed her from the command deck and asked "Can I relay from here or shall I jump off the Prydwen again?"

"Who is the Courier?" Maxson asked darkly ignoring her question "and what does he have to do with Danse?"

Oh Fuck!... Ohhh Fuuuuccckk. She had forgotten to tell him… He watched the play of emotions on her face, it was rare to see such a display and he was intrigued by it. He raised his eyebrows at her, waiting for the answer.

"I'm sorry… with everything that's happened… I forgot." Max struggled for a way to say this without freaking him out. There was no way, so she went with the band aid technique.

"Elder McNamara from the Mojave Chapter sent a message to me with a courier and the Courier happens to be the template that the Institute used to create Danse… Weird right?" She gave him an awkward, apologetic kind of smile that just came off as weak.

Maxsons eyebrows slumped into a frown as he pondered what she had said. It was a rush of information and there were several things in that sentence that bothered him very much.

"Right." He said finally. "I'll come with you then."

Max eyed him suspiciously. He had taken that very well and was oddly calm. He should be pitching some kind of fit.

"OK, from here or…"

"I'll take us down to the airport. The rule stands, no relaying to or from the Prydwen." Maxson said sternly.

"I kind of broke your rule a little bit when you were shot… Kells made me do it though. I didn't want to, rules are rules after all." She grinned at the Lancer Captain and she led the way out of Operations and onto the Command Deck. RJ & Zac were talking quietly on the far side of the deck examining the bullet hole in the glass.

"RJ, We're going to CIT. You coming or are you and your new best friend going to carouse some more?" Max asked lightly.

MacCready brightened. "I'm coming." He turned to Zac. "You should come too, you can meet my girl… She's French."

Maxson took the four of them down to the airport by Vertibird and Max radioed the control desk. Zac didn't have a chip in his Pipboy, so he had to be remotely tethered. When they appeared in the relay room, he made an impressed sound but took it in his stride. Max relayed alone to Sanctuary and found the Courier 'napping' outside the visitors house. The house had acquired a few more occupants with the arrival of a caravan from The Slog. Boone was in his now customary spot in the tower above the gate.

"Max." The Courier greeted her, moving nothing but his lips.

She had to admire him. Not just his looks, though he was extraordinarily handsome as Danse had been too, obviously. He was also something else.

He dressed almost like a cowboy from one of the epic western films that Nate had loved. The faded old duster and a wide brimmed cowboy hat that hid his eyes from the sun and the scrutiny of others. Under the duster he was encased in leather boots, pants and vest, undoubtedly armoured and he had a light, long sleeved undershirt under that. Both he and Boone had a habit of wearing sunglasses almost all of the time. She knew it was to observe without seeming to. If she could find a pair of shades that looked good on her, she would probably do the same.

But it wasn't the way he looked that mattered, it was the way he carried himself. He was totally confidant but not cocky. He was aware of everything around him, but he was at ease. He had a 'don't fuck with me' vibe, but a quick and friendly smile. He was the epitome of the alpha male.

It was funny, for all the effect that he'd had on her when she had first seen him that first night. It wasn't there now. Her mind knew he wasn't Danse, so her body didn't respond to him anymore. The differences were so obvious to her now. It seemed that looks really weren't everything.

"We might have something for you. Do you fancy a trip to CIT?" Max asked as she came to a stop at his side, looking down at the top of his hat.

"Yep."

The Courier dragged himself out of his seat and cast a quick look up towards the tower.

"Boone, going to CIT… wanna come?"

Boone glanced over the side of the tower, shook his head and returned to his duty.

"He doesn't like the relay and the French girl won't let him smoke." The Courier explained as they walked together to the radio by the gate.

"Tell him that smoking is bad for him anyway… one to relay… we should get you a chip, you won't be able to use it outside the Commonwealth, but it could come in handy while you're here." She relayed out and he followed moments later.

* * *

Arthur Maxson sat across from the man who was the mirror image of Paladin Danse. His eyes bored into the face of the man.

Earlier, Max had come into the room smiling and talking easily to him, their steps in synch and bodies close. Maxson had to clench his jaw and ball his fists to keep from roaring in frustration. He would lose her. Danse had been formal and proper, but this guy had all of the looks and the easy temperament to match. There was no way she would look at him while this man was around.

He tried hard not to glare at him. He tried to keep his eyes civil. It was a chore.

"So the guy, Sturges. He's like your man right? An escaped synth built from another humans DNA?" The Courier was looking over at Sturges who was sitting nearby talking quietly with Haylen in the CIT mess, every now and then Sturges would reach out his hand and touch Haylen softly on the hand.

"Not exactly. Sturges is an escaped maintenance synth." She explained as best she could. Curie had been called away so it came down to Max to fill in the blanks, she took a long sip of her coffee. "OK so… We found that the Institute built three types of Gen three synths. There were the ones like Elton, who were basically built to be slaves. They carried out the grunt work and dirty jobs that the Institute scientists felt was beneath them. Custodial duties, repairs, you know. I guess it's why he's so good with gadgets. Then there were the Coursers, who were the synth muscle and police force. They found and returned escaped synths to the facility for reprogramming and redistribution as well as other unsavoury missions that required special attention. They were engineered to be stronger, faster and smarter than the others. They also were fitted with a neural block to keep them from experiencing too much in the way of emotion. There has only been one recorded escape by a courser. The blocks were put in after that."

"Didn't I hear that you killed a whole heap of them?" The Courier asked, captivated.

She ignored that and carried on. "And then there were those who were used to replace existing people in the wasteland, for undoubtedly disreputable purposes. The DNA of the required person was collected and a synth made and sent out in their place. We thought Danse was one of those and he was… but not entirely. He was special."

She frowned as she continued. "This is interesting. For a while, the Institute had communications with a group called the Enclave and they were seeking out extraordinary individuals to try and create a controllable special forces team or something. We don't really know their motivation. Anyway, it seems that the Enclave _commissioned_ Danses creation. They provided the DNA samples of people that they wanted to replicate and the Institute made them in exchange for resources."

She looked over that the Courier. "Among the samples that the Institute received, was a group of Mojave Express Couriers who are, by all accounts the most _amazing_ people ever..." She flashed him a half mocking grin. "There were six of them as well as half a dozen more extraordinary people."

She glanced at Maxson. "Danse, being extraordinary, escaped from the Institute and had his mind wiped by a doctor in the Capital before the Enclave had a chance to collect him. We're not sure how many commissioned synths are left out there, if any. But we do know that the six couriers were among them originally. I bet you feel pretty special, Courier, your synth was the one that got away."

"Yeah… really special." He grimaced as he pondered what she had said. "I guess getting hold of my DNA wouldn't have been too hard… I do tend to bleed a lot." He frowned even harder after thinking a little more. "I don't know if I'm happy with the knowledge that there may be more of them out there… the specials. Especially someone like Ulysses. The original wasn't exactly stable, I'd hate to think what a facsimile would be like."

"Do you think the Enclave still have the other five courier synths?" RJ asked, enthralled. He loved a good story.

"No way of knowing if they still have them. It's been a long time. But from what Arthur told me, the Enclave are extinct anyway, so I doubt it." Max replied.

"Oh no, the Enclave aren't extinct… not by a long shot. They cover huge amounts of territory. Chicago and the TFS, there are still a few remnants in the Mojave." The Courier grunted.

"TFS?" Max asked.

"The Texan Free State. It's down south." The Courier replied, his expression becoming questioning as she laughed out loud.

"Good old Texas." She chuckled, waving him off.

Maxson was watching the Courier with narrowed eyes. "Max said that you bought a message from McNamara… what was the message?"

The Courier cocked an eyebrow at Max, before relaying the message to Maxson. Maxson stared at him for a moment in stunned silence after hearing the single sentence. He looked at Max and then back at the Courier. His young face etched deeply with concern.

"Why did he send that to you?" He asked Max .

Max shrugged, suddenly worried by Maxsons reaction. What did that bloody message mean?

Maxson stood up in a sudden flurry of activity. "I have to make preparations to leave."

"Leave? Where are you going? Arthur, what's going on?" Max stood up and followed as Maxson rushed from the mess. The Courier, Zac and RJ, trailing after them both.

"I have to go New Vegas."

 **AN: Hello readers. we're about o get to the guts of it now. I plan on making this a little longer than my first couple of attempts at writing. Please review. Good or bad. I like to have some reassurance that I'm going in the right direction. Also, Star Trek reference.. ha.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 – On the Road Again**

Maxson leaned over Max as she sat comfortably at her desk in the vault above Sanctuary.

"Are you going to tell me how you get onto the Prydwen?" He asked in exasperation. "It's a security risk and when we're in hostile territory, it would be nice if we could close those holes. I would have thought, as you will be in residence, you might like the peace of mind that it was an impenetrable fortress."

Max snorted. "Hardly impenetrable. I can name at least a dozen ways onto that ship and only one of those is by relay… which I might add, won't be an option outside of the Commonwealth."

Maxson glared at her, a look mirrored by Lancer Captain Kells, for once outside of the Prydwen and by his leaders side.

Max sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine… The first time I went up there was by one of your own vertibirds. I used a stealthboy and attached myself to the bottom of the bird, it took me up and then I climbed around to your quarters and came in through the window.

"The second time was by relay. I had Dr Li with me and she's not so spry, so it seemed a little off to expect her to free climb anywhere."

"And the third time, I scaled the control tower and climbed your moorings to the forecastle and climbed down to your quarters and through the window… I didn't even need the stealthboy that time, you people never look up."

Kells had gone pale under his dusky skin and Maxsons frown threatened to permanently furrow his youthful face.

"What?" She asked innocently. "Not my fault you guys don't have locks on your windows."

"If you were going to try again… How would you go about it?" Maxson asked, his tone worried.

"Definitely a Jet Pack…. Ohhh, Pogo Stick. No, no … a trampoline." Max chortled gleefully at their twin expressions. "Guys relax, I'm a professional trouble maker, I'll work with your security team to plug the holes."

Maxson didn't relax… far from it. He was on edge, McNamaras message was far from relaxing and Maxson was also still unsure as to why the message had been sent to Max and not to him. The Courier had confirmed the message was for General Max Everton, though he had been under the initial impression that Max was a man.

They needed to leave. He needed to be across the country as soon as possible.

"Are _you_ going to tell me what the message means?… and why we have to go to Las Vegas at all?" Max asked.

" _You_ don't have to come. In fact, it would be in your best interests to not come." Maxson retorted.

"The message was for _me_! If it was intended for the receiver to go to Vegas, then that's where I have to be." Max asserted again. They had already argued about this for Christs sake… why did the Brotherhood have to be so bloody argumentative?

Maxson shut his mouth with a click of his teeth. He wanted to smile, but knew that would be a big mistake. He wanted her to come. He needed her to be there but he needed it to be her choice and the fastest way to get Max to do anything was to tell her that she wasn't supposed to. He kept the stony expression plastered on his face.

Kells looked between the two leaders uncertainly as they glared at each other.

"The Prydwen is built to house a company of soldiers and their support staff. Two hundred souls." He began the briefing that he was there to administer, trying to ignore the icy silence of his superiors. "We will be bringing only fifty with us in total. Ingram, Quinlan and Neriah will stay in the Commonwealth to oversee the Brotherhood interests here. Cade and myself will round out the command crew of the Prydwen along with Paladin Rhys who will be stepping into Teagans former command role."

Max gave an exaggerated groan. "Are you seriously so dumb as to put him and me in the same enclosed space for any duration of time?" The look she gave the two men was almost comically cynical. "With the Courier on board, no less…?"

"What's the problem with the Courier?" Maxson asked, sidestepping the problem with Max and Rhys.

Max gave him the 'you've got to be kidding' look.

Oh yes… Rhys 'admiration' for Paladin Danse… right.

"He's my most senior Paladin now… I can't bypass him."

"What about MacNamara… isn't she…"

"Paladin MacNamara is pregnant." Kells interrupted. "We need Rhys."

"Pregnant.. yay her." Max clapped her hands delightedly.

Maxson scowled darkly at her. "You need to talk to your people about controlling their instincts around Brotherhood women… that's two we've lost to you now."

"She's pregnant to a Minuteman? No one tells me anything… who?"

"Your propaganda agent. Miles and she have had a dalliance."

"Travis? The sly dog. He's not my propaganda agent, he's my DJ. Pipers my propaganda agent." She shook her head in amusement. "I need to get her a gift or something." She mused. "OK so, Rhys... whatever, OK."

"We need to account for your contingent before we calculate the final crew numbers." Kells continued.

"There'll be me, the Courier, Boone, MacCready, Curie, Sturges and Haylen… And you're bringing Zac as well, right?"

"He expressed an interest in coming, yes. I can't help but notice that you have included two synths in your party." Maxson said pointedly.

"I have included a medical officer and an engineer in my party. Along with a former scribe who is well versed in Brotherhood protocol. Two skilled snipers and an all round badass… what's your point?" Maxs eyebrow rose, she thought that they were passed the synth nonsense.

Maxson just shrugged and dropped it.

Kells paused again while the two leaders glared at each other again.

"We'll resupply the Prydwen and ready the troops and we'll leave at dawn, the day after tomorrow." Kells looked at both of them and they both nodded shortly concluding the meeting.

Maxson was watching Max, he reached out his hand and she took it to shake in agreement. She managed to stop him before he came in for the kiss on the cheek. She called to Preston to show her guests out and then moved out to a meeting of her own. The people that she had planned to take were gathered around the table in the common area in the Vault.

The Courier and Boone were only hitching a ride home. MacCready was going because Zac was going and Curie was going because MacCready was going. Haylen wanted Sturges to meet a few of her friends and Sturges wanted to get a closer look at the Prydwen. Those were the only reasons for her choices. She grinned at the gathering.

"We're going to Vegas, baby."

* * *

In typical Commonwealth fashion, the departure of the Prydwen was delayed by a particularly vicious Radstorm. It buffeted the vessel at its mooring and the crew waited resignedly for it to subside. Max found herself in the mess with Zac Hobson sitting across from her tossing back a Nuka Cola.

"Wait… your folks are James and Catherine Hobson? From Project Purity? Max asked in awe.

"Yep." He grinned, "should I be upset that you've heard of them and you barely knew who I was?"

"Yeah, you should." She replied with a smile, before continuing. "Madison Li is the new head honcho at CIT. She's going to try replicating Project Purity here in the Commonwealth. She made sure everyone here knew that she was involved in the Capitals big win. Don't worry though. I had heard of you… you're a little bit famous."

"I am pretty awesome." He agreed with a grin and he struck a heroic pose before swiping his hand through his sandy coloured hair and giving her a sparkly blue-eyed wink.

"My God, you have an ego on you, don't you?" She said with a laugh.

"I do have that." He smiled, lifted his Nuka Cola bottle to his lips and drained the last few drops.

"You're Brotherhood, right?" Max asked suddenly.

Zac put down the empty bottle and pushed it to the far side of the table. "I was, not anymore. I'm more of a private contractor now."

"So, do you agree with all of their Doctrine… the Codex?" Max asked, she leaned forward, like the answer was really important.

"Fuck no… No." Zac replied quickly, reading her body language. "And neither does Arthur, not really."

"Are you sure? You haven't seen him in a while and I've heard him say some pretty Brotherhoody things."

"Listen… He's smart… smarter that old Lyons was." Zac insisted, suddenly serious. He leaned forwards as well, lowering his voice. "Arthur told me that you said that the Brotherhood can't evolve… you were almost right. Did you know that the guys we're going to see, the Mojave chapter, are shut ins? They live in an underground bunker and can barely interact with the outside world. I don't know much about the other chapters but don't be surprised if they are the same. Arthur reunited the Brotherhood in the Capital under the old school banner, the original codex. Arthur could unite the whole Brotherhood, just with his name alone and if he did, they would be the controlling power in the whole country. He has the power to do that."

"He has to be really careful though, it has to be done gradually, a little bit at a time. Too much too soon and it will all crumble in his hands. Lyons tried to change them overnight. Look what happened there… the Outcasts splintered off and the Brotherhood dwindled. Arthur doesn't believe in the Codex… but the old guard do and they are the ones he needs to get on side to gain control over everything. He has to convince them that he's what they need to lead them into the future."

Zac leaned back and looked at her through lowered lashes. "You get what I'm saying right?"

Max nodded. "You can't turn a super tanker on a dime." She said.

"Right." Zac said. "I have no idea what that means… but I guess you're right."

She grinned at him and described what a super tanker was and how hard they were to steer. She was in the middle of telling him about other poor boating decisions, the Titanic in particular, when the Courier strode over to their table and sat down uninvited, followed by Boone who was lighting up a cigarette.

"When is this tub going to get moving?" He grunted.

"Radstorms only last an hour or so." Max assured him. "not long now."

"Hate being penned up, you think they'll let me sleep on the deck?" He asked.

"There's a store room on the flight deck, they might let you put your cots in there? I'll ask Kells."

Boone blew smoke over the table and the Courier noticed Max wrinkle her nose a little. He also noticed that Rhys fella walk into the mess. Rhys looked over at their table and narrowed his eyes when he spotted Max. If looks could kill, Max would be in many bloody pieces right now. He also looked at the Courier, _that_ look was almost as creepy. The Courier knew the look had more to do with the former Paladin Danse than him, but it unsettled him none the less. He also spotted a glance towards Sophie Haylen and her man that was none too friendly. This was sorting itself out to be a very interesting trip if they ever actually left.

The Courier was not sure what to make of Zac yet. Zac was a pretty boy who could easily be dismissed as such but he also had a reputation for being somewhat of a serious operator. Hard to believe but he did have an edge to him that he seemed to keep well hidden, a sharpness to his eyes that left you in little doubt to his true capabilities. He was a lot like Max in that regard. She was a leader, to be sure but she was also extremely dangerous. The Courier had been forced to push aside the initial impression she gave. He could see what she was now. The three of them had more in common than he would have liked to admit. It would be interesting to get to know them better on this trip.

He gave a sigh of relief when the announcement came over the PA system that the Prydwen was about to cast off. Max excused herself from the table and walked towards the front of the ship and the Command Deck below. Courier glanced at Boone and sure enough the sneaky devil was eye balling the General as she walked away, his aviators hiding the direction of his eyes from everyone... except the Courier… and Zac Hobson, who grinned widely at the Courier knowingly.

Yeah.. the Courier thought. Don't underestimate that guy.

* * *

The Prydwen skimmed its way across the Commonwealth.

From the air, Max could make out landmarks from the old world she had known and the new one that she had found herself living in. She wondered not for the first time what was waiting for them outside of the Commonwealths borders. It was exciting and a little intimidating.

She remembered a lot of the old world. She had moved all over as an army brat. She had been stationed all over as a soldier. She had killed all over as a government sanctioned assassin. But this wasn't the world that she had dominated back then, this one was completely different. It was a world where people like the Courier existed. Like the Lone Wanderer existed. It was a world where organisations like the Brotherhood of Steel, the Enclave and the Institute existed.

Beyond the borders of the commonwealth was something more. So much more. She would have to adapt again. She would have to trust in others to keep her, if not safe, (she was capable of that) then aware of the dangers. She needed to stay sharp.

For whatever would come. Whatever was coming…


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Fun for the Whole Family**

Max heaved a sigh as they cruised over the edge of the map she had created on her pipboy over the last two years. Her little marker was out in space forging a new path. She hadn't stayed on the Command deck long. Maxson was in Operations and standing before the new windows on the Command deck alone seemed a little pointless. She went back down to the mess to rejoin the others. Courier and Zac where right where she had left them, though the Nuka Cola had been replaced by bourbon. Boone was nowhere to be seen. Haylen and Sturges had been joined by MacCready and Curie on the other side of the mess.

She waved them over and sat down next to Courier. The group gathered around the table.

"You've all been briefed on your new duties?" She asked to round of nodding heads. "While on board I expect you all to be on, if not your best, then at least tolerable behaviour. The Brotherhood are a group of bigots so I want you all to watch your backs. Curie and Sturges in particular."

"Because they're synths…" the Courier reiterated, helpfully. "and I have to watch myself because I look like Danse, or rather he looked like me. And Haylen has to watch herself because she left the Brotherhood to be with a synth. Boone has to watch himself because he's generally unpleasant and MacCready has to watch himself because he's got a smart mouth. I don't know why Zac needs to watch himself, but he's not really part of our group, so I don't care. What about you Max? Why do you have to watch yourself?" He gave her an easy smile and leaned back in his chair.

"That list is way too long…" She smiled back.

"Really? Do tell." Courier leaned his chin on his hand and batted some very long, dark eyelashes at her.

Max grinned back at him, enjoying the banter. Her grin subsided gradually as a sound intruded on her senses. Zac & Courier also tipped their heads to the side to listen.

It took a moment or two, but soon everyone in the mess hall quieted. There were distant cracks and booms… and then they weren't so distant… then the ship veered and shuddered, throwing people to the floor with it's violence. Kells harsh voice boomed out over the PA system.

"All Crew, Battle stations, The Prydwen is under fire. Full Alert. General Everton to the Command Deck." The message repeated as everyone scrambled for the door. Max was up and striding to the front of the ship. The Courier and Zac close behind her.

The Courier stopped suddenly. "Boone's on the forecastle." He muttered before turning towards the stairwell and bounding up it and out of sight.

Max slid down the ladder onto the Command deck and turned to make her way to Maxsons side. The ship pitched forwards under a barrage of what had to be mortar fire from the ground and Max stumbled forwards into Maxsons arms.

"Good catch." She breathed, righting herself. Maxson didn't let her go right away, his hands resting on her hips.

"We're not even out of the Commonwealth yet… Who's shooting at us?" Zac asked incredulously.

Max caught a glimpse out of the massive windows of a giant Nuka Cola bottle adorning a fibreglass mountain on the ground below.

"Is that Nuka World?" Max gaped at the decrepit amusement park.

"Whatever it is… it's shooting at us." Maxson replied.

"Vertibirds deployed Elder." Kells advised, coming up the stairs from operations.

Max extracted herself from Maxsons hands and headed back up the ladder.

"Where are you going?" Maxson shouted, starting after her.

"I wanna see if Mad Mulligans Mine is still there." She hurled back over her shoulder.

She hoofed it through the interior of the ship and up to the Power Armour stations, skidding to a stop in front of her suit of supped-up X01. She whacked a fusion core in the back and levered herself up into it. Maxson ran in a moment later and heaved himself into his own suit. He flashed her a boyish grin before donning his helmet and thudding over to collect his gating laser, Final Judgement. Max had initially rolled her eyes and made a very unladylike sound when he had told her its name but she supposed it was no worse that her own 'The Last Thing or Danses 'Righteous Authority' back in her room at Sanctuary.

The two leaders stomped back through the ship, Max hefting her shotgun and holstering her 10mm, they went out onto the flight deck together and with one last quick look at each other, jumped off the Prydwen.

They landed side by side in a thundering crash, the aged asphalt cracking and buckling on impact. They stood up and simply started firing. Maxsons lasers hissing through the air and through anyone who happened to be in the way and Max surgically dissecting what looked like an army of raiders, with twelve gage shells to the face. There was crash after crash behind them as Paladins and Knights followed their lead and took up formation behind them.

The four Vertibirds roared overhead, miniguns rattling and lasers cutting the air and mowing down whole tribes of hostiles. Max also caught sight of raiders dropping seemingly without cause, knowing that Boone and MacCready had taken up posts on the Prydwens deck and were picking off raiders with their rifles.

Whatever these raiders had thought they were shooting at, it could be damned certain that this was not what they had expected to happen.

Max noticed groups of collared slaves mingled in the line of fire and appropriated a few knights to secure them inside what looked to be a marketplace. She then saw Zac racing through the fray, gun not only blazing but skilfully utilised to eliminate target after target. How had he gotten down here? She thought, discarding her empty shotgun and taking up her pistol instead.

The raiders never stood a chance, they were disorganised, untrained and, it seemed, plagued with disunity. Some of them choosing to fight each other rather than face the Brotherhood of Steel.

Max found herself looking down at a raider whose hands were in the air in surrender. She levelled her pistol at his good eye, the other one being covered by a steel plate.

"The best laid plans of mice and men, huh?" She said pleasantly, "You in charge here?"

"No ma'am, that'd be Colter." The raider said calmly.

"I'd love to chat with him… I don't like being shot at." Max said.

"Neither do I." Zac said seriously as he came up beside her, an automatic rifle hanging loosely in his grasp. Max had seen briefly that the Lone Wanderers reputation was well deserved. The guy could fight and his eyes which were normally sparkly and friendly were now dark and icy.

"Overboss'll be in the Cola Cars Arena." The raider inclined his head in the appropriate direction. "I wouldn't though, he's got his special armour on, you won't beat him."

"We'll see." Zac replied before running towards the Cola Cars.

"You see, you don't strike me as a run of the mill raider." Max flicked her wrist in the direction that Zac had run in, indicating that the raider should follow. "What's your place here?"

"You might call me the concierge… maybe."

Max chuckled at that. "What's the story with the 'special' armour?"

"Draws power directly from the arenas grid, its indestructible. Folks have tried everything; miniguns grenades… your boy's running towards his grave." He said it conversationally as if it were a foregone conclusion.

"We'll see, Zac's pretty resourceful." Max replied walking behind the raider her pistol still levelled at the back of his head.

The Brotherhood were tidying up the last vestiges of resistance. The fight had been short and somewhat brutal. The Brotherhood, even with their depleted numbers, had superior training, tactics and firepower. The raiders may have been a threat to traders and settlers but they were certainly no match for the might of Maxsons soldiers… and his friends.

"Is Mad Mulligans Mine still running?" Max asked her hostage as Maxson joined her at the door of the Cola Car Arena.

"Might be" He thought moment, "don't go out there. Gangs stay in Nuka town."

She humpfed and nodded at him to open the door.

The arena was alive with electricity and a lone figure on power armour was the source. He was locked inside what used to be the bumper car court, his armour was sparking threateningly. Maxson levered off his helmet and looked at the design with interest. There was no sign of Zac at first but Max scanned the arena catching, sight of a shadow crouched behind a grouping of fibreglass bottles. His rifle was laying at his side and he was filling up the Thirst Zapper with Nuka Cola while casting furtive glances though the decorations at his target.

"Is he going to hydrate him to death?" Max asked. "or do you think it's gonna be death by caffeine?"

Maxson shrugged and stomped towards the viewing platform. "If anything happens to Zac, we'll be nuking this place. See how effective his suit is against a kilo tonne payload."

Colter was ranting and stomping back and forward waving around a shotgun and hollering for Zac to come out and face him. Zac looked over at them and gave them a quick wave, held up the Thirst Zapper and gave a thumbs up. Max held her breath as he tested the range of his weapon. He would need to get closer to have it be any use to him. Zac was only lightly armoured, like Max usually preferred to be, for ease of movement and speed. He eased around his hide and made a quick dash diagonally across the floor dodging two poorly aimed volleys of shot from Colter.

He ducked in behind another group of decorative fibreglass bottles, took a deep breath and leaped out holding his squirt gun in one hand aimed at the Overboss and his rifle loosely in the other. He fired off a heavy stream of Nuka Cola at his target and then dropped the Thirst Zapper to the floor. He swung his rifle up and began firing just as the circuits in the electrified suit began to fry and the field around it died.

Colter was so consumed with rage over the loss of power in his suit that he barely noticed the torrent of 5.56 rounds rip through him. He died not knowing what had hit him.

Zac wandered over to the former Overbosses corpse and gave him a nudge with his foot before pointing into his face and shouting "Science, Bitch!" jubilantly.

"See," Max told her hostage, "Resourceful."

The raider blinked in surprise. "Well, Fuck me dead." He murmured. "If I'da known it was that easy, would have done it a long time ago."

Max chuckled and looked back at Zac who was now standing looking pointedly at the arenas door, locked from the outside. He glanced back at Max and then back at the door with a nod.

"Shall we let him out?" Max asked, "or let him stew in there for a while."

Maxson watched Zac stroll back across the floor and pick up his Thirst Zapper, fire off a few shots of Nuka Cola into his mouth and stroll back to the door.

"If that armour wasn't in there with him, I'd let him stew a bit." Maxson replied.

Max laughed and nudged her raider ahead of her towards the locked door and the terminal attached to it.

"That ain't the only Power Armour in the park." The raider said as he tapped on the terminal opening the door for the Lone Wanderer to escape. "If you let me go I'll show you where they are, some of them are real special."

Zac jaunted into the room and gave a pin-up worthy smile.

"and that folks… is how you do it." He grinned, "Ooo, funnel cakes." He grabbed a brightly coloured package from out of a cubby and tore into it, freeing a funnel cake and biting into it with relish.

"Let's talk power Armour." Maxson said to the raider with a glare at his friend.

"Let's get up to the Prydwen and to a radio so I can get Minutemen support out here." Max interrupted. "I want to lock this place down. We can plunder its resources as soon as it's secure."

"Of course, General." Maxson conceded.

The left the Cola Cars Arena and found the Brotherhood had rounded up the last of the raiders and had them corralled inside a building labelled as the Nukacade. The vertibirds were on the ground lined up along main street.

"We'll be leaving you here for now," Max advised her detainee, "You gotta name, so the boss can drill you for information on his power armour."

"Name's Gage ma'am" He said with a broken toothed grin. "thought you'd be the one doing the drilling though, wouldn't mind that too much."

Max grinned through her power armour helmet and Maxson glared at the raider. He put Rhys in charge of the ground troops with the order to standby and he flew Max and Zac back up to the Prydwen .

Within minutes, crews of Minutemen were relaying to the site of the newest settlement in the Commonwealth.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: I had to do another quick jaunt in Nuka World... back to the road trip next chapter. Thanks for the reviews so far. I enjoy reading them. I'd love to get more if y'all feel inclined...**

 **Chapter 9 – Best Laid Plans**

Nuka World was blip in the grand scheme of things. If the raiders had only restrained themselves, they would all still be alive and the Prydwen would be half way across New York State by now… or whatever that area was called now… maybe it was called nothing. Max wasn't sure.

But as it was, the Prydwen was moored over Fizztop Mountain for the time being and the massive area that Nuka World covered was being scoured by the Brotherhood of Steel and the Commonwealth Minutemen. General Everton snuck off the Prydwen early and prowled around the park. She had found a park map and was determined to see Mad Mulligans Mine before they set off again.

Outside of Nuka Town, the park had gone savage. It was almost like it had been for her when she had first set foot outside of the vault two years ago. Her senses were on high alert and her footsteps light. She had returned her Power Armour to the Prydwen and was instead clad in her customary leather armour. Her shotgun, reclaimed by a helpful Brotherhood Scribe, was slung over her shoulder, her 10mm sat snuggly on her hip and she carried The Last Thing in her arms.

She skulked out of the north gate of Nuka Town in the shadow of Fizztop Mountain. She glanced over at the Galactic Zone. It hadn't been open when she had come here when she was younger. She would look around it when she came back. She'd bet it was awesome back in the day. It was a shame that she never had the chance to see it then.

She glanced then to her right, towards Kiddie Kingdom and immediately dropped to her knee and raised her rifle scope to her eye. There had been the tell tale flash of light, the bright early morning sun glinting off glass. She zeroed in on the derelict Ferris wheel and relaxed as she saw Boone raise his hand from the top most car. She gave a nervous kind of laugh and waved back. She was about to stand up and carry on her way, when she noted that he was making his way back down the wheel. It looked like he meant to join her… so she waited.

Both Boone and the Courier wandered up to join her a few minutes later. Courier had a park map of his own clasped in his hand.

"Amusement Parks are certainly amusing." Courier commented lightly as they reached her side. "That place…" he jerked his thumb back over his shoulder at Kiddie Kingdom, "was amusingly infested with Feral ghouls and an amusing amount of explosives."

Max rolled her eyes at him and turned towards Dry Rock Gulch.

"What's the matter, Kiddie Kingdom too much for the big, tough Courier?" She laughed.

"Why would anyone want to ride in a coffee mug?" He asked sulkily at her ribbing.

"They're teacups." She corrected him. "and they're so the kids can feel miniature or something."

"Kids _are_ miniature." He grunted as they reached the gate of Dry Rock Gulch.

Boone silently hung back from them, cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth and rifle at the ready.

"Why are we here, anyway?" Courier glared through the gateway and at the old western town beyond.

"You don't have to come in with me," She said softly. " My dad bought me here when I was… I don't know… eleven or twelve. It was my favourite part of the park." She smiled gently. "We were living at Fort Hagan and it was one of the few times I remember him being home…"

She brightened suddenly. "Anyway cowboy, this place might be more your speed."

They stepped through the gate and were immediately assaulted by a ferocious updraft of dust as the ground convulsed and erupted with a dozen giant worms.

Max stepped back into Boone, dropping her rifle and drawing her pistol, firing off quick rounds. The Courier had his pistol in hand as well, though his rounds must have been much larger than hers as the worms he hit all but exploded. The yard was soon littered with twitching flesh and the smell of gun smoke. Max looked over her shoulder at Boone and grinned. He unwound his arm from her waist and stepped back quickly, handing her back her rifle, which he had caught and then looking around on the ground for the cigarette he had dropped. He found it quickly and stooped to retrieve it.

"Mighty fine shooting there, Tex." Max drawled at the Courier, adopting a thick Texan accent. "Holy shit, may I look at your sidearm?"

He grinned and handed it to her by the barrel and she examined the revolver carefully.

".45-70… pretty." She mused and read the words etched on the barrel "For honourable service, against all tyrants."

She arched her eyebrows at him in question as she handed it back.

"It's a Rangers Sequoia… they get them after twenty years of service in the NCR… it was a gift, I never served." He explained, holstering the beautiful gun.

"You never enlisted." Boone corrected him quietly from behind her, "but you did serve… kinda"

"Is that how you guys met? In the army?" She asked.

"No." Came the short answer from both of them, signalling the abrupt end to that line of questioning.

Max regarded the Courier for a moment, gauging the mood and dropped it.

"So…" She said quickly, recovering from the drop in tone. "Should we proceed or will we let a few underground monsters deter us from our mission?"

"We're here now," The Courier replied, "May as well see what's in there."

They stepped back over the threshold again and advanced into the old west with a little more caution.

* * *

"That woman…" Maxson grated angrily as he stomped around his quarters, "I swear, she'll be the death of me."

"She sneak away often?" Zac asked absently, staring down at the chessboard with concentration.

Maxson chose not to answer that. The truth was, she was never where she was supposed to be and sneaking was her speciality.

"… because from what I heard," Zac continued, "When she wants to leave somewhere, she makes damned sure everyone knows it." Zac gave a chuckle at his reference to Maxsons liaison with the General a few months ago.

Maxson glared at his friend.

"This place is locked down. I want to get moving." Maxson fretted impatiently, choosing again to ignore Zacs almost constant jibes.

It was well into the afternoon when Kells approached him to say that Max was back and on her way up via vertibird. Maxson stalked out onto the flight deck and was rooted to the spot in the middle of the causeway as the trio of adventurers alighted from the bird.

The Courier was the first out… he was wearing a Nuka World Tee-shirt and a tasselled red waistcoat over top and a bright pink Stetson perched on his head. Boone followed, his face like a thundercloud. He was wearing a Nuka World Tee-shirt too and a powder blue Stetson. He was also laden down with several different types of bags bulging with what looked to be frivolous loot.

And then Max alighted. She had a Nuka World Tee-shirt on as well. But she was encased in the Couriers oversized duster and had Boones beret perched jauntily on her head and on her chest was pinned a silver star.

"Howdy Pard'ner." She greeted Maxson as she saw him. She jumped down onto the deck. "I got you a hat."

She began digging through the bags still in the vertibird. She extracted a dark brown Stetson and placed it on his head, before turning to collect the remaining bags.

"I love Nuka World." She proclaimed as she sidled past Maxson and proceeded up to the door as Courier and Boone went in the opposite direction to their modified accommodation on the deck.

"Max, you're bleeding." He pointed out as he followed her, taking the hat off his head as he did so.

"I got bit by a worm, it's fine." She waved him off. "I have a heap of tee-shirts and souvenirs. I am totally moving my base of operations here when I get back."

Maxson gritted his teeth as he walked behind her. He found himself holding her bags as she climbed up the ladder to the main deck and handing them up to her before climbing up himself. She had the private berth beside Maxson and Kells. She knew it had been Danses quarters back when he was a Paladin and was supposed to be Rhys' now. She shouldered her way through the door and began dumping the bags on her bed.

"Where'd Boone go with the rest of my stuff?" She looked around absently and shrugged.

"Where have you been… with those two?" Maxson stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"We went to Mad Mulligans mine in Dry Rock Gulch. They made me sheriff." She pointed to the little star badge proudly. Put your hat back on." She made her bottom lip protrude just a little bit to show her dissatisfaction.

Maxsons look spoke volumes and the hat remained in his hand.

"We're casting off at Sunset. It would have been sooner. I don't suppose that you have any more excursions planned?" He asked with exaggerated politeness.

"I wanted to see the Galactic Zone, but I _suppose_ that can wait 'til I get back." She looked down at the floor coyly and looked back up at him through lowered lashes. "Put the hat back on, Arthur." She ordered, her voice dropping to a sultry purr.

Maxson gulped at that look and at the tone of her voice, but his eyes dropped to her leg which was still oozing blood.

"You need to see Cade about your leg." He tried to ignore the sudden leap in his heart rate.

"I'll see Cade about my leg after you put the hat back on." She purred, advancing on him, slowly backing him up against the door and looking up at him expectantly.

He lifted the hat slowly and planted it on his head. She reached up and adjusted it slightly before touching a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. It took all of his self control to not kiss her back… but he was not about to attempt to ravish a woman while she was baring injury.

He cleared his throat audibly. "Now, go see Cade." He stepped sideways away from the door and watched her walk through it and kept watching as she sashayed down the corridor to the infirmary.

Zac seemed to appear beside him as if by magic. "Do you think I'll get a hat?" He asked wistfully.

"You can have mine." Boone said grumpily as he emerged from the deck below, plopping the blue hat on Zacs head unceremoniously. "Where'd she go with my beret?"

"Infirmary." Zac supplied, adjusting the Stetson, clearly chuffed with it.

Boone stomped into the corridor and out of sight. They heard her outraged cry and he came back up the corridor, his First Recon beret firmly back in place, where it belonged.

"Tell her Courier will bring in the rest of her crap later." He flung at Maxson and Zac before he slid down the ladder and out of sight.

"So, now that she's back, we're heading out again?" Zac inquired, looking up at Maxsons hat critically.

"Casting off at sunset." Maxson confirmed, taking the hat off again.

"I need to talk to that raider again before we leave. And I want to make sure Ingram and Quinlan get the Power armour from the park before CIT gets their hands on them." Maxson growled.

"Max won't be happy with that if she finds out." Zac pointed out.

"Max won't find out until we get back from New Vegas and by then it won't matter." Maxson replied.

"You are trying to get on her good side, right?" Zac tilted his head towards his friend. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and say this isn't the way to do it."

"Collecting and preserving technology is one of the foundations of the Brotherhood. It's my duty to make sure those suits end up in Brotherhood hands." Maxson grated.

Zac took hold of Maxsons arm and looked him dead in the eye. "Who do you think your talking to, Arthur?" He whispered, "That's bullshit and we both know it. What the fuck is going on right now?"

Maxsons angry gaze wavered for a moment. Enough for Zac to see. There was more going on here than what everyone thought.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 – Oh, The Places You'll Go**

Boone leaned on the rail, watching the landscape glide by far beneath him. There was something serene in it. Maybe because it was far enough away that he couldn't clearly see the old scars of nuclear fallout… and it was quiet. He was glad that he had found this place. There were so few places on this boat that a guy could get a few minutes of peace and quiet.

He felt around in his pockets, pulled out his tobacco and rolled himself a smoke. He lit it and took in a long drag.

He could see the lakes far in the distance, just a tiny glimmer on the horizon for now but they should make the shores of Lake Erie by tomorrow. They would have to be careful. They were coming close to Enclave territory now and they were an advanced group, heaps of tech, or so he had heard. Gannon had once said that the Enclave were the remnants of the old government. Boone didn't know what that meant, but it sounded important. He didn't really care. Just point him at something and tell him to shoot it. That was all he needed to know.

He took another drag of his smoke and was distracted for a moment by a scraping sound below him. There was nothing below him but empty space. The forecastle jutted out well past the edge of the ship.

He gasped and jumped back when he saw a hand snake out from nowhere and grasp the edge of the causeway. He unslung his rifle and pointed it at the mystery hand as it was joined by another. He waited… Identify your target.

Her head popped up over the side a moment later and she dragged herself up over the side of the causeway. She got to her feet in let out a tired breath. She was encased in a black suit that fit her like a second skin. It was distracting to say the least, she may as well have been naked.

"Hey." Max said as she pushed a few strands of dark hair out of her face before squaring her shoulders and walking past him. He watched her walk to the opposite end of the causeway. She grabbed hold of the edge of the boat and hoisted herself up and, finding footholds and handholds in the seams and rivets of the hull, she continued to climb up the side of the Prydwens armoured shell. He watched her climb until she was out of view.

He slowly lowered his rifle, his brow creased with confusion. He looked over the side of the causeway at the vast amount of nothing below him. Where had she come from? Where was she going? What was she doing? What was wrong with that woman?

His smoke had gone out. He dug into his pocket for his lighter and sparked it up again, still staring at the spot that he had last seen her. He shook his head in bewilderment before turning back to the view.

* * *

Max hated administration. She hated reports. She hated standing around doing nothing. She hated the Prydwen and being entombed in it like a sardine. After they had left Nuka World, which was awesome, the trip had turned boring. She was sure they were somewhere over New York State by now… maybe in the Ithaca area? So they were moving at a good clip but she couldn't stand it. Every one of her team had been given a job and they got on with their duties and slotted into the routine with ease. She wasn't sure what Maxson got up to all day, but whatever it was, it kept him busy and locked away. She read her reports and tried to fill her time.

She had started up an intensive exercise routine that involved her running around the ship every morning and night. Her route taking her up and down the stairs and along the gangways and generally getting in everyones way. She used the workout area…lifting weights and beating the crap out of the heavy bags. She had convinced a few of the Brotherhood knights to help her grapple, teaching them a few holds, but really using them as test dummies. One or two had taken to her fighting methods and were keen to learn more ways to eliminate opponents and Courier had been helping her tighten up her striking game when he had time, which was fun.

She had been helping MacCready with his shooting, showing him the finer points of calculating long distance shots. Boone had been pitching in though he said very little. He had been assigned look out on the forecastle and even when he was off duty he tended to spend his time up there, as she had discovered when she had decided to use the Prydwen as a jungle gym in an effort to stave off death by intense boredom.

She had donned her lightweight and streamlined stealth suit and wandered out to the flight deck before climbing over the railing and dropping carefully over the side, finding handholds in the pitted metal joins and on any extruding or exposed part of machinery. She had done this before, but the ship had been stationary at the time... this was a little more of a challenge as the wind threatened to tear her from the ship with every gust. She was determined to complete a full circuit, the length of the ship… or die trying.

And if she died, it would be Maxsons fault for making her read reports and approve rosters.

She scaled the front of the ship ignoring the Lancer pointing excitedly at her as she passed in front of Operations' windows and Maxsons dismayed and dangerous glare as she clambered up past the Command deck.

She briefly greeted Boone as she hauled herself up onto the forecastles causeway. He was aiming his rifle at her at the time, so she chose not to hang around and she soon found herself on the very top of the balloon.

There was glorious three hundred and sixty degree view of the world. She could see the glint of the great lakes in the very distance, way out ahead of the ship. They were further along than she had thought. She sat down heavily on the warm steel surface, breathing hard after her exertions. It was peaceful and open out here. She would have to come up here again.

She finally dragged herself to her feet and made her way to the back of the ship.

She was not surprised in the least to find a furious Elder Maxson waiting for her on the Flight Deck when she shimmied down using the heavy iron cables.

"Be careful, Arthur." She warned as her feet touched the causeway and after taking in his piercing blue eyes and the furiously working muscle in his jaw. "You might give yourself a stroke."

His voice was dangerously quiet as he spoke. "What! In The Name... Of Steel. Is WRONG With You?"

"I was bored and I'm out of shape. There are no mountains up here for me to climb…" She said calmly.

"What if you had fallen, or slipped, what if the wind had picked up?" He ground out.

"Then I would have died in spectacular fashion." She shrugged. "Arthur, I know that this is what you're used too, but I'm not. I have to be _DOING_ something or I will go insane… and if you think this was insane, you clearly have no idea what I'm capable of. This place would be a powder keg if I was penned up for much longer."

She tried to make her voice even and reasonable but it was kind of hard to be taken as reasonable when one had just free climbed around a juggernaut in mid flight. She could see him battling within himself. It looked like his head was either going to explode or he was going to throw her over the side of the ship. She hoped it was the former as the irony of the latter was not lost on her.

She was genuinely astonished when he took a deep breath and pulled her into a tight embrace.

'I said I would wait for you. It seems like your going out of your way to make sure that my patience will be for nothing. Why do you keep putting yourself in danger?" He spoke into her sweaty hair.

"You could call it some kind of sickness." She muttered against his chest. "I'm mad. I thought you would have figured that out by now."

"Hey, lovebirds." Zacs voice greeted them, intruding in on the moment. "Max, you want company on your next trip around?... looks fun."

He was sitting on the stairs leading up to Courier & Boones makeshift accommodation, popping cotton candy bites into his mouth. He was still wearing his blue Stetson from Boone and the Nuka World Tee-shirt that Max had given him. He hadn't been there the moment before.

Max grinned at him as she stepped out of Maxsons arms

"You climbed before?"

"Been a while, but yeah." He nodded.

"I'll source another suit and some safety equipment and we'll go over on the next nice day." She looked up a Maxson, who was eyeballing his friend with something akin to loathing. "OK?" She asked Maxson, her sinfully green eyes going to work on him.

"Fine." He said shortly, after a long pause.

Max used her brightest smile on him. "I'm going to hit the showers and then settle in to read some reports. Thank you, Arthur."

She turned and bounded across the deck towards the interior of the ship.

Maxson turned and glared at Zac.

"Before you say anything…" Zac put up his hand. "I am not after your girl. I have a girlfriend as you are well aware, and Moira and I are quite happy. Thanks for finally asking after her, by the way."

He stood up and took a casual step forwards. "She…" he pointed in the direction the Max had left in. "is not Brotherhood. You know that. She…" He pointed again, "is not your subordinate. You know that too. If you continue treating her or thinking of her as either of those things… you will lose her with no help from anyone else."

He looked Maxson in the eye. "Cummon kid, I've known you since you were ten years old. I know you. You're not this dumb. She's different and as soon as you see that and stop trying to change her, the better off you'll be… it was _her_ that you fell for right? Not whatever it is that you're trying to change her into. There are several men on board this tub who would give their left nut to get with her and I need not remind you that a couple of them have a real chance…" He looked pointedly up at Courier and Boones berth.

Maxson nodded dumbly and stared at his friend.

* * *

"Saw her climbing the ship." Boone said shortly.

"Yeah, she calls it free climbing. Wouldn't be my first choice for hobbies, one wrong move and you're a wet spot in the dirt, doubt there'd be much to clean up from this height." Courier chuckled at the gruesome image in his head.

"What do you think of her?" Boone asked taking a quick drag of his cigarette and flicking the ash beside him onto the floor.

Courier glanced across the rec area at the freshly showered woman as she leaned over the young sniper, MacCreadys, shoulder peering at the terminal screen and talking animatedly. He flicked his eyes back to the barrel of his gun checking it was clear before drawing a rag over it to give it a good clean.

"She's a pretty good kisser." He said distractedly, scrubbing at the barrel of the gun.

"Not what I meant." Boone snapped at him.

Courier glanced at his friend now. Boone leaned against a stack of crates, his arms folded over his chest and a hand rolled cigarette nestled in the corner of his mouth. He was wearing his aviators even in the dim light. It was so he could observe without giving himself away. The Courier knew that Boones eyes had been trained on the General for as long as she was in sight, tracking her from the moment she entered his view and they would stay on her until the moment she left.

"What did you mean?" He asked.

"Never mind." Boone grunted.

Courier dropped his voice. "Boone, let me ask you something." Boone grimaced but stayed silent, nothing new there. "What's it been? Eight years we've known each other? We've been together almost every day for eight years… and I've never seen you with a lady in all that time… Has there been anyone? Since Carla?"

"I said, never mind." Boone grunted again.

"That's a no, then." Courier said under his breath.

Boone glared at him and they reclined in silence, the Courier cleaning his sidearm and Boone brooding.

"She doesn't like smoking. You know that, right" Courier said with a slight smile, before tucking his Sequoia back into its holster at his hip and leaning his head back onto the crates.

Boone was silent for a long time, he didn't bring the cigarette back to his lips, instead letting it burn down. He dropped it on the floor and stubbed it out with the toe of his boot and crossed his arms over his chest.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: I'm a bad person... I dropped the C-bomb. I'm very ashamed.**

 **Chapter 11 – Cabin Fever**

Max may have been the first person to exhibit the symptoms but she was not the only one to feel the strain of the claustrophobic confines of the Prydwen. The Brotherhood of Steel were a closed off group at the best of times. They held themselves aloof and rigid most of the time and their Codex could make them hard to get along with. The Minutemen in the group were working along side the soldiers and scribes and they were always civil and professional during their shifts. The Brotherhood though, could not hold their tongues and a few barbed comments were cast in the direction of the Minutemen when the work hours came to an end. Curie and Sturges were, as predicted, the first to be targeted. It started off small and almost innocent, like gentle ribbing, but as the days progressed they became more bold and the comments more cutting.

Two people weren't effected in the least. The Courier seemed to hold everyone enthralled and if any comments _were_ levelled at him, he simply didn't care. He wasn't a Minuteman, he could leave at any time anyway. Boone was never around, he was a shadow, so nothing was ever said about him and if it was, he never heard it and if he did… he also didn't care.

But the others...

Curie had little experience in dealing with people, she had only had a humanoid body for the last year and a half and she was still coming to terms with being organic and feeling any emotions at all, rather than just running code. She was confused by the behaviour of her Brotherhood peers but largely didn't get it or ignored it. MacCready on the other hand was becoming very dark as he heard the thinly veiled insults and threats directed towards his delicate French lady.

Sturges was usually a laid back and easy going kind of guy but as time passed on the ship, he became more and more tense. If the threats and comments had been directed at him and him alone, he would have been able to handle it, he could have shrugged it off and moved on. But they weren't all directed at him.

Haylen still had a few friends in the Brotherhood but by and large, she was seen as a traitor. She had abandoned the Brotherhood of Steel. She had left her family for not only an outsider, but a synth to boot. She had spat on the principles of the Brotherhood and for most within the ranks, that was unforgivable.

It didn't matter that the Minutemen were allies or the Elder Maxson himself had bought them on board their hallowed vessel. They were outsiders.

General Everton was pretty much the only thing holding back the Brotherhood. Her presence was all that kept them in check. The comments quieted when ever she was near. She was still held in awe. Her actions at the Institute were still talked of in hushed tones. It was still fresh in their memories, how absolutely terrifying she was.

But she was not always around and they were all living on top of each other.

Sturges was the first to approach the General. For Haylen, who was wilting under the backhanded bombardment.

"Elder Maxson, may I please request a moment of your time." Maxs tone was severe and deadly serious. It even made Zac look up from his comic and pay attention.

Maxson looked over at the General with some trepidation. Her expression was cold and her eyes hard. He nodded and excused himself from Zac, following the General into her quarters, where she closed the door with an ominous click.

She turned on him fiercely. "Control your people, Arthur or God help me, I will." She bit out angrily.

Maxson looked confused

"Really? … Do you seriously have no idea what's happening on your own boat?" She snapped. "What's the point of all your stupid reports?"

Elder Maxson bristled a bit at that, but still stared at her questioningly.

"Your Brotherhood bully boys are harassing my staff… Sophie Haylen in particular." Max glared at him and then sighed. "Rein them in, please. This is going to be a long trip, can we make it go by without the civil discord?"

Maxson nodded. He understood her anger and fear for her friends. The seven of them were outnumbered by the Brotherhood and many held the Minutemen in low regard… But he was also teetering on pushing reform a little too fast, grazing the edges of where Lyons had fallen down. He needed to assert control without seeming to.

"I'll speak with Kells, Cade and Rhys." He advised her. "You have my apologies, General."

"Thank you, Elder." Max smiled and lowered her eyes. "I apologise for being so brusque."

Maxson nodded and turned to leave.

"I'll write a report about it." Max said to his back as he opened the door. He paused before stepping out.

* * *

Sophie Haylens back was up against the wall and Paladin Rhys was leaning over her speaking roughly through clenched teeth. It was an out of the way place, he had caught her alone burrowing through the storage aisles. A Brotherhood scribe had seen them and, against his better judgement, he mentioned to Elton Sturges what he had seen. Elton pushed himself away from his station in the Power Armour bay and rushed off to find them. The scribe nibbled his lip as he watched the synth leave and then went looking for the General.

She was nursing a coffee mug in the mess, talking quietly to the Courier who looked like Paladin Danse and the merc, MacCready. He approached her hesitantly. She was not scary to look at, quite the opposite but her reputation was forbidding.

"Ex-excuse me, General Everton?" He said quietly, eyes fixed on the table top on front of her. He felt her looking at him but he was not interested in meeting those eyes.

"Ma'am, there might be some trouble brewing, I saw Paladin Rhys and Scri – sorry _Captain_ Haylen in the storage bay having a heated discussion and Major Sturges has gone…" He didn't get a chance to finish, she was out of her seat and walking before he had a chance. Courier and MacCready exchanged a quick look before getting to their feet to follow her.

The scribe looked uncertainly at the doorway they had all gone through…. He might have just made things even worse. He rushed to the Commend Deck to report it to Lancer Captain Kells only to find Elder Maxson there as well. He hoovered tentatively by the stairs to Operations. Not sure what would happen if he spoke about it now.

"What is it scribe?" Kells authorative voice had the scribe snapping to attention.

"Uuhhh... Sorry sir, but I may have caused a disturbance" He stuttered out. "I saw Paladin Rhys and Captain Haylen and then Major Sturges went to help and then the General…" He gave his superiors a look of helplessness and stopped speaking.

"Where are they?" Elder Maxson addressed him directly.

"In the storage bay, by Proctor Neriahs molerat pen." The scribe supplied worriedly.

Maxson strode from Operations and called to Zac Hobson as he went.

Kells looked down at the Scribe. "Thank you, Scribe Christophers, you can return to your duties."

* * *

When Max found them, Sturges was standing between Rhys and Haylen. He had Sophie tucked behind him and his hand on Rhys' chest in a 'back off' stance. Max hurried over, stepping in between the two men, casting a warning glance at Sturges and turning the full impact of her agate stare on Rhys.

He took a quick step back as she entered his personal space but made no other move, except to look down at her with distain. She was almost half a foot shorter than him, she wasn't so tough, he thought to himself, purposefully wiping out the memory of her furious and insane battle with the Coursers at the Institute.

"Paladin Rhys." She said, her voice icy and her face like stone. "I would appreciate it if you would cease and desist the harassment of my staff. You are a senior officer in the Brotherhood of Steel. You should know that it is not your place to approach my people."

"Maxson said you had gone crying to him because your _people_ can't take a little joshing." Rhys sneered down at her, his dark eyes like coal in the dim storage area.

"I wouldn't call cornering a lone woman in a dark place 'joshing', I would call that intimidation or worse." She countered.

Max noticed that Maxson and Zac had arrived on the scene, MacCready and the Courier stood nearby as well. It seemed that this was becoming a bit of an event as a few Brotherhood soldiers also could be seen peering into the darkened storage aisle. Sturges had taken Haylen by the hand and lead her away from where the General and the Paladin faced off.

"Intimidation… huh. That's rich coming from the likes of you. We all know you're not normal, that you're more of a freak than that synth. I wouldn't be surprised if the Institute made you too." Rhys had raised his voice… he knew he had an audience now. It was time to make himself into a hero.

"Wow… really? Is that all you got?" Max laughed emotionlessly. "You have an audience, why don't you really lay into me?"

"You know what I got, _Max_?" Rhys looked around him, catching the eyes of his brothers and sisters. "I got a hunch that there are only a few people in the Commonwealth who use .50 cal rifles and even less who can use them with any real effect. I got a hunch that maybe the reason that we never found who tried to assassinate our Elder, is because she was the one investigating it."

Max gaped at him for a moment before laughing outright.

Rhys faced darkened as she leaned in and put her hand on his shoulder supporting herself in her mirth. She gulped in air and looked up into his face.

"Holy shit, you're one funny motherfucker, you know that." She gasped.

He shook off her hand and grabbed hold of the front of her armour. The Courier stepped forwards but MacCready took hold of his arm and shook his head.

"You Are Evil!" He bellowed into her face. "I know it was you, you have the relay at your disposal, all of your 'witnesses' are your precious Minutemen. You're a killer, a freak and you're an abomination. I don't understand how you can twist men to your whim. Even the Elder is blinded by your cunt, you whore." He was losing it and Maxs body tensed. Should she prod the bear? Should she tip him over the edge?

"Is this still about Danse?" She asked calmly and quietly, so no one else could hear. "He chose me… move on."

She saw the punch coming before he even moved, his body contracted as he drew himself in and his right fist flew in a powerful haymaker. She did the exact opposite of what he thought she would. She stepped into him and turned her body, wrapping one arm around his waist and used his momentum to toss him onto the floor. She hit the ground after him locking one leg across his face and the other over his chest and she pulled back on his arm, locking in an arm bar.

Rhys grunted in pain and he struggled to free himself.

"Yield Rhys, or I _will_ break your arm." She gasped, struggling to hold him down, she pulled harder on his arm, levering it the wrong way. "Tap or Snap." She gritted.

He wasn't giving up, he tried to heave her off, but she dug in. He left her no choice. She popped her hips and yanked his arm and heard the sickening crack as the bone gave way under her weight. Rhys cried out and he stopped struggling. Max unhooked her legs and rolled away from the prone man, taking to her feet, she turned to one of the stunned Brotherhood knights watching.

"Go get Cade." She ordered.

The knight scampered off towards the infirmary and Max turned towards Maxson.

"I'm sorry Arthur, I had to act." She said calmly.

Zac leaned towards MacCready and whispered, not quite quietly enough. "I'm not sure which of them is the bigger bitch." MacCready sniggered.

Maxsons eyes were hard as he looked down at her. He opened his mouth to speak, no doubt to denounce her actions but he suddenly drew his sidearm from under his coat at speed and fired off a quick blast. Max felt the hot blaze of light graze her cheek at the same time as a loud boom punctuated the air.

Max turned in time to see Paladin Rhys on one knee, topple sideways onto the floor. His own pistol clattering from his hand, a scorch mark on the right side of his face and a gaping, bloody hole in his chest. Max looked around, confused until she saw the Courier with his pistol in his hand as well, the sequoia still smoking from being shot. Both he and Maxson had fired at the same time and Paladin Rhys was dead.

The Courier holstered his pistol and looked hard at everyone gathered in the storage aisle.

"Where I come from," He said sternly, "you don't shoot a lady while her back is turned. You look her in the eye like a gentleman."

He hooked his thumbs into his belt and left.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: I didn't really check this one too well. Sorry for errors, will fix later. I just wanted to post it and move on.**

 **Chapter 12 – Lake Michigan**

The remaining forty nine crew members of the Prydwen were subdued.

Haylen had been excused from her duties, she had been so distraught. Rhys had been her squad mate, her friend and even though the last time he had spoken to her had been in anger, she would remember the times before that with much more clarity.

Rhys had drawn arms against a Brotherhood ally. To her back no less and justice for that act had been swift, whether it was by Elder Maxsons hand or the Couriers… no one was really sure which shot had taken Rhys' life, it may have been both of them together.

General Everton, it seemed, had disappeared. Much to everyones surprise she had taken Rhys' death the hardest of them all. It was Boone who approached the Elder to advise him that Max was still on board the vessel. She had climbed to the top of the Prydwens armoured balloon and seemed to have decided to stay up there indefinitely. After some debate, it was decided that she should be left alone. She had a way of working through things on her own. She would come back down when she was ready.

At least, that was what everyone else had decided was best. Craig Boone had other ideas.

The Prydwen was gliding towards the glistening eastern shore of Lake Michigan by then. Boone figured it was as good a place as any to die and if by some miracle he managed to live through this, it wouldn't be too much of a swim to shore. He stood before the armoured hull of the airship and took a deep breath as he stared at the expanse of metal wall in front of him and then he glanced back down at the ground far below. He climbed up onto the railing of the causeway and wriggled his fingers into a tight seam of overlapping metal and hoisted himself up. So far, so good. He hadn't fallen yet. His pace was slow but he was soon at a point where he could hold onto a metal cable and drag his carcass along the roof of the vessel until he found a place flat enough to stand and walk normally.

He saw Max lying on her back on the hot metal surface in what had to be the exact centre of the ship. Her left arm was draped over her eyes to keep the bright sun at bay. She might have been asleep, but he doubted it. She was in that black suit again… the one that made his mouth go dry and his chest tighten.

He approached her quietly, coming to a stop by her side before sitting down next to her, knees bent and forearms lain over them. He didn't say anything.

It was really pleasant, the ship vibrated underneath him and there was the constant hum of engines, but the view was well worth it. Before them stretched the blue expanse of the lake. It was a hot day, but a cool breeze was blowing in off the water.

He lay back next to her, tucking his right hand under his head, the other hand resting flat against the warm steel. He felt her slim, soft fingers linking with his and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. He closed his eyes and let the warmth flow through him. They just lay next to one another in silence, holding hands.

It was a long time before she spoke, so Boone just waited.

"He hated me so much." She said in a hushed voice, "and he had every right to."

Boone hadn't been there when it had happened but Courier had told him about it.

"I took everything from him… I goaded him…." She whispered, "they should have let him kill me. I deserved it."

Boone looked over at her. Her arm was still over her eyes, maybe not to block the sun after all.

"I'm just not a very nice person at all… I wish I was the person they all need me to be."

She let go of his hand and bought her fingers to her face, wiping away what had to be tears.

"How can I go back down there… I embarrassed that poor man, broke his arm and then he was killed trying to save face. His own beloved Elder executed him." She sniffed.

Boone grimaced at her words but still said nothing. She needed to work through this herself. He had come up here so she wouldn't need to be alone and to act as her sounding board. What she was saying was a load of crap. That Rhys guy was grown-ass man and a high ranking officer, he was out of line. He meant to fire on an unarmed womans back all because she stole his perceived boyfriend ages ago… that was it, in essence anyway.

Max didn't need to hear that now, she felt so guilty.

"Nate would have known what to do… Danse too. They knew how to lead people. People still seem so strange to me." She took her arm away from across her eyes and laid it over her stomach

She never seemed to take note of the bulky pipboy on her wrist. It was like it was a part of her. The Courier was the same. Boone had noticed that the people who had pipboys treated them like extensions of their own bodies. The kid MacCready, had one. It had acted as no hindrance when he had been shooting raiders from the deck of the Prydwen at Nuka World. The kid was actually pretty good for someone who had received no training and he would only get better under the tutelage of Max , who in the course of teaching him had pulled off some astonishing shots. Boone had been more than impressed with her skill. He might even concede the she might be better than him, if she didn't use that high tech rifle of hers… he wondered if she would be so accurate with a simple hunting rifle and scope like his.

There seemed to be more pipboys in play in the Commonwealth than anywhere else. The Courier had asked about it. The team that had bought down the Institute had all used pipboys , so the remaining members had them and the ones on the wrists of the deceased had been passed on to others.

Haylen had Danses one, Curie had the one that had belonged to a lady named Cait. Proctor Cade, the doctor, had one that had belonged to a guy named Brandis. Zac had one too, but he was apparently a vault dweller. Boone could see the benefits of having one, for mapping if nothing else. Boone vaguely wondered who would get the one that Rhys had been wearing, now that he was dead and all.

Max sighed and Boone tuned back into her voice. "Tell me about yourself Boone. You got a girl or guy back home?"

"Nope." He said shortly.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "You got a guy… with you now?"

He turned his head and looked hard at her face. She had a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"No." He said.

She smiled at his stern tone.

This line of questioning was a little worrying to Boone… was she asking about him or was she asking about the Courier? The Courier did look like her lover and they seemed to be getting on well, maybe she was looking to make that next step. Courier would be open to it too though he wasn't the 'relationship' kind of guy.

"You've been married though, right?" she asked, turning onto her side and propping up her head with her hand.

"Was, a long time ago." Boone replied with a frown.

"Sorry… did it not work out?" She asked.

"She died."

She made a 'huh' kind of sound of discontent. "The Snipers with Dead Spouses Club. You, me and RJ. We could get badges and make up a secret handshake." She mused, a little darkly.

Boone looked over at her. She had lain back down again with a light thud and was staring up at the sky. There was a small smile on her lips but it was sad and tinged with something darker than grief. She had been a widow for two years in her mind, sixty two in real time and then she lost the other guy too, the one with the Couriers face, the synth. Boone had never had the courage to seek another mate. He had resigned himself to either living alone or dying alone. The Courier had made damn sure he never died, though he had gotten close a few times. The woman next to him was stronger than him. She rolled with the punches. She was intent on living on, no matter what it cost her, righting wrongs wherever she went.

"It's not that I want to go on… but it seems like a cop out if I died, like I'm getting off too easy." She said suddenly and inexplicably, her brain taking her to darker and darker places. Boone didn't like it, it was too much like a mirror to his own thoughts.

"Maybe living on is my punishment…" She suddenly laughed. "Fuck. That's depressing."

She rolled over and got up onto her knees, looking down at Boone with a grin that seemed completely out of place considering the direction that the conversation had been going. She had a way of pushing things from her mind or at least seeming to. Boone doubted that they were gone or even buried all that well.

"I need to go back down and face the music sometime… no doubt, it won't be pleasant. You ready to come back down with me?"

Boone nodded and begrudgingly got to his feet as she did.

"You don't say much… strong, silent type. I like it. It's mysterious." She laughed again and started back towards the front of the ship and the easier climb back down.

Boone watched her go, taking in the swing of her hips and the way the stealth suit moulded to her butt. If her were to consider another woman… it would definitely be her.

He gave a quick smile. It felt weird and alien on his lips so he let it fall from his face again. He started forwards and then stopped in his tracks. What was that in the sky?

Max stopped ahead of him, she had seen it too. She tilted her head to the side and drew in a gasp of breath before turning around and breaking out into a run towards him.

"Go, go, go…" She grabbed his arm and dragged him in the opposite direction.

She clicked on her pipboys radio as they ran towards the rear of the ship and began shouting into it.

"Kells, brace for impact. Missile inbound."

* * *

Arthur Maxson aimed a quick jab at the Couriers jaw. The Couriers jaw was not there to meet it and Maxson felt a solid fist thump painfully into his kidney. The punch was pulled but it still hurt like hell.

Maxson was amazed at the Couriers speed. He was twelve years older than him… surely he should have slowed up some over the years. If he was this fast now, how much faster had he been at Arthurs age?

The two of them circled each other on the sparring mat in the exercise area in the Prydwens mid ship. In an effort to fight off some of the gloom that had settled over the ship in the wake of Paladin Rhys' demise, they had decided to fight it off physically. Maxson was glad for the workout with such a skilled fighter. He now had both Zac and the Courier to train with. The Brotherhood soldiers under his command were too frightened to spar with him, so his workouts with them had been unsatisfactory.

He had sparred with Max once, but he would never do that again. She was not a terrible boxer, but it wasn't her strong suit and it was quite distracting when she would resort to flipping him onto the mat and wrapping those long legs around him to contort his appendages into positions that they shouldn't be in. It had been disconcerting the first time she had done it, resorting to what she knew when he'd had her on the run. But the second time had been quite awkward and a little arousing. It also just didn't seem right, punching the woman he was in love with.

Zac was excellent with hand to hand combat, better than Maxson, so it was a pleasure to learn from him. The Courier was as good, if not better. So Maxson was picking up all sorts of new techniques. Not strictly boxing by the rules though, the Courier had all sorts of dirty tactics to pass on.

Maxson needed to unwind. He had addressed the entire crew on the Rhys situation. It had been difficult but he hoped that the crew were still onside. He hoped they could understand the reason behind his actions. Disregarding the Couriers bullet for a moment, Maxson had fired on and executed one of his senior officers. It was almost unheard of and after conferring with Kells and Cad,e his mind was no more at ease.

Zac had been the hero. He had gone about the crew on his own and talked to many of them, gauging the mood. His gift of the gab had proven a godsend. He had discovered that almost all of the crew had been shocked by Rhys' actions, pulling a gun on the Generals unarmed back _even_ after she had chastised him and embarrassed him for hounding her staff.

They had been shocked by his accusations of Max being the would-be assassin, though some were now suspicious of her as well, however far fetched it may have been. Maxson certainly didn't believe it and Zac had quieted almost all of _that_ talk by listing off all of the reasons why it simply couldn't be true using reason, logic, science and whatever else he could dredge up out of his brain.

Maxson was regretful about including Rhys in the crew but he was also irritated with Max for her choices for her team. She had to know that there would be rumblings of discontent over Haylen and the two synths being on board. He was also upset with himself for not mentioning it with more vigour when he'd had the chance.

As it was, it didn't matter now. What was done was done and they could do nothing but patch up the cracks that had appeared in the crews dynamic.

Maxson was bought swiftly back to the present when a fist hit him with more force than was necessary in the side of his face. He grunted under the power of it and stumbled off his feet.

"Pay attention." Courier rumbled, reaching down to help him up.

Maxson rubbed at his face and blinked away the stars that had started to spark before his eyes. "I think I'm done." He grimaced.

"Suit yourself." Courier said shortly, unravelling the wraps from his fists. "I'm going to look for Boone."

He picked up his duster, hat and gun belt from a nearby bench and strolled away.

Zac, who had been napping all the while on the weights bench, lifted his powder blue Stetson off his face and looked over at Maxson.

"That guy's scary good right?" He observed, watching the Couriers retreating back

"Hmmm…" Maxson agreed absently.

"You can see why the Enclave wanted another just like him. I guess you can thank your lucky stars that Danse ended up with the Brotherhood instead of working against them." Zac sat up and settled his hat onto his head.

"I didn't think you were watching." Maxson grumbled. Zac was too damned smart for his own good.

"I'm always watching." He grinned with that million cap smile of his and stood up. "You wanna go a round or two with me or are you really done being beat on?"

Maxson sent a snide kind of smirk at the Lone Wanderer and opened his mouth to reply but he was cut off by the PA system roaring to life.

"ALL CREW. Brace for Impact. The Prydwen is under fire."

Maxson shot a look at Zac and started for the stairwell down to the main deck when the ship suddenly tilted violently sideways, rocking them both from their feet. Maxsons head came down hard on the edge of one of the benches surrounding the mat and he was out cold.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: You can totally blame my husband for how long this chapter took. Monoploising the damned computer. I** ** _try_** **to write a chapter a day.**

 **I'm not happy with this chapter... but meh. Review, comment, critique or just post a random musing. I am liking the theories on where it's going... at least someone has a clue, I certainly don't.**

 **Chapter 13 – A Cool Dip**

The missile struck the front engine on the starboard side perhaps drawn by the mass of heat that it emitted. The closest vertibird ignited and exploded as well in the shock wave. The power of both explosions first pushed the airship upwards and then it fell sharply, listing to one side. It slowly descended towards the clear but irradiated waters of Lake Michigan, no longer able to maintain its lift or course.

Max and Boone stumbled onto the smooth metal surface of the balloon. Slipping and sliding back towards the drop-off. Boone found purchase on the edge of one of the massive coils from the coolant system and grabbed for Maxs hand and missed. He ended up with a handful of her hair, and cringed. It must hurt but he'd be damned if he would let her go. Both of her hands came up to grasp at his wrist and she scrambled with her feet against the hull to pull herself up. She climbed up Boones body and grabbed hold of the thin ledge beside him.

"She's going down." She shouted. "Hope you can swim."

They braced themselves and after what seemed like an eternity the Prydwen struck the water with an ear shattering splash. The impact jarred them from their handholds and they slid off the side of the ship, fell through space and hit the water with heavy splashes.

Hitting water from that height was not pleasant. Max and Boone surfaced, both spluttering and coughing, and instead of swimming away from the downed vessel like any sane person would, they both swam back to the wallowing ship. There were forty seven other people on board that needed help.

The flight deck was completely submerged under the ship and the Prydwen bobbed on the top of the water like an actual boat. The flight deck was never empty... there had been scribes running routine maintenance and the two power armoured knights that normally had posts on either side of the hatch to the interior of the ship. Max looked around the water surrounding them for any sign of the people that had been on the deck but the water was clear of anyone but her and Boone. They had either perished in the crash or they had retreated inside before it hit the water.

The hydrogen filled balloons should keep the Prydwen afloat. They just needed to access one of the upper hatches to make sure everyone got out. No telling how watertight the hull was.

"The Forecastle." Boone muttered before setting off with powerful strokes. Max followed and they reached the front of the ship quickly. Max grabbed onto the vertical support beam and hauled her body out of the water. The climb up to the forecastles causeway was slow. The dowsing in the lake had made them both heavy and cold. Maxs limbs were shaking and her fingers were having trouble gripping on, but she pushed forward dragging herself over the railing and laying in the metal walk way for a moment to catch her breath. Boone was up and over the rail a second later but didn't need any time to rest. He made for the hatch and wrenched it open coming face to face with the Courier who had a mass of people behind him.

"Oh hey, buddy." Courier greeted him casually. "Decided this tub wasn't the best place to be… going to bug out."

"Good plan." Boone replied quietly, "us too."

Courier flashed him a grin and slapped him companionably on the shoulder. He stepped aside and ushered people through the door. Max got to her feet and came forward, halting the flow of humanity.

"Where's the Elder?" She asked the first people through the door.

They didn't know.

"Kells?" She pressed.

Kells voice floated over the press of bodies. "Here, General." He said, coming forwards.

"We're about half a mile from shore. Do you have rafts? Survival packs?" She asked.

Kells shook his head to the rafts. "We have buoyant supply crates with supplies."

"So we're swimming. The water is cold and it ain't rad free. We need those crates and the strongest swimmers to take the lead." She scanned the shoreline. "There. See that building, assemble everyone there and do a head count as soon as you reach shore. Get warm and decontaminated and check supplies. Go slow in the water, don't use too much energy."

Kells began ordering the Brotherhood soldiers and the first swimmers and crates went into the water.

"You two." Max called the Courier and Boone. "Kells isn't going to be able to manage everyone alone, would you mind going along?"

"Max, this group isn't going to be able to hang around." Courier warned her. "You know that whoever shot us down is gonna come looking."

"I know, I know, one thing at a time." She replied.

Courier nodded. "Any guns in those crates?"

Kells looked up at him. "There's a pair of laser pistols in each crate and half dozen fusion cells." He went back to counting bodies leaving the ship.

"Mine and MacCreadys rifles are in that locker." Boone pointed, before going to retrieve the locked box.

"Throw my rifle & Sequoia in there and we'll swim it over." Courier said. "We're good Max, What are you doing?'

"I'm going in to find my people." She ducked into the hatch against the tide and saw Curie, Haylen and Sturges right away.

"RJ's just behind us." Haylen said before Max could ask.

Max nodded and touched each of them on the shoulder encouragingly and pushed back through the few people left on board. She still hadn't seen Zac or Maxson. She questioned the Brotherhood soldiers but no one had seen either of them. Max hurried along the catwalk casting worried looks over the side at the levels below.

"Arthur… Zac?" She shouted and waited… there was no response. She ran through the empty ship as fast as she dared. The Prydwen was bobbing about on the water like a cork and it was making some very peculiar sounds especially in the lower levels. She reached the main deck and rushed through it until she made it to Maxsons quarters, dragging the door open. No one home, Where were they?

"Arthur… Zac!" She hollered again, using her parade ground voice. She tilted her head to one side waiting of an answer that never came. What if they had already made it out?

She shouldered her way onto her own berth and gathered up her belongings. Her leathers, armour and weapons and tossed them into the footlocker in the corner and dragged it out and made for the infirmary. She emptied the lockers and first aid kits into the footlocker too.

She dragged the now very heavy footlocker behind her through the deserted ship. She stopped as she heard a very disturbing sound coming from the hull and the levels below her and sickening kind of cracking and moan of metal joints about to give way.

And give way they did. With a series of small explosions, the windows in Operations and Arthurs quarters imploded and the hull of the submerged portion of the ship finally gave way, sending torrents of water flooding the lower decks and slowly rising. Max wasn't going to make it all the way to the forecastle before the water overtook her. She went with the next best thing. She dragged the footlocker to the Power Armour bay and levered herself into her suit. She was _almost_ sure she could walk the half mile under water… maybe. Was it better to drown in a little tin can or a big one?

* * *

Zac woke up with water pooling around his feet and his pipboy ticking twitchily on his wrist. He had been two levels up when the ship had jolted him over the rail to fall all the way to the bottom of the ship. He was laying on the pitted metal surface underneath the lower catwalk. He pulled himself up testing for injuries as he went… he seemed ok, just a shitload of bruises and a nagging ache in his left leg. He stumbled to his feet and looked around desperately for Arthur. They were in around about the same place when it all happened. He looked up, his eyes searching the levels above him.

He sighed resignedly when he spotted him. Of course Arthur wouldn't have been chucked around the ship like a ragdoll… of course _he_ would fall gracefully where he stood. Zac climbed over the rail of the catwalk, wincing with pain and ran haltingly up the stairs to the main deck and then up again to the upper level. He limped along the level back towards the workout area and there was Arthur slumped next to the sparring mat, exactly where he had been though, his forehead was liberally splashed and smeared with blood from some wound above his hairline. Zac knelt painfully next to him and shook his shoulder.

"Cummon kid, wake up… we gotta get outta here."

Maxson grumbled and stirred but didn't wake.

Zac shook him again with more force and began sitting him up. Maxsons eyes fluttered open and he groaned in protest.

"Stop being a baby… get up, man" Zac said, dragging Maxson to his feet.

"What happened? Where is everyone… did we crash?" Maxson growled, his hand rubbed over his eyes trying to focus on what was happening through a skull splitting pain in his head. His hand came away bloody.

"I'm thinking we crashed on water… we need to…"

There was a sickening tearing sound accompanied by sporadic crashes as the hull gave way underneath them to the pressure of Lake Michigan pressing on her sides and water began pouring into the ship in earnest. The ship tilted and the front began to flood and sink.

Now there was a big problem, they had taken too long.

Zacs eyes darted around urgently… there was no way out… this stupid fucking ship had no fucking exits. All of the exits were at the front of the ship and that was submerging at an alarming rate.

"This way, Arthur." He said urgently, pulling him roughly to his feet and planting boot. He ran towards the rear of the ship, ignoring the pain in his leg, Maxson was hot on his heels though unsteady on his feet thanks to the head injury. They went up the stairs two at a time and rushed along the catwalks until they couldn't go any further… this was going to be a pretty big risk. One wrong move and instead of drowning, they would be burned alive. Zac took a deep breath and planted a frag mine on the wall and backed away, pulling out his laser pistol.

Arthur nodded but cast a worried look at the ceiling and the pockets of highly flammable hydrogen beyond. They were both ready to run as Zac aimed at the mine on the floor. He fired and the mine exploded with a deafening Boom that echoed off the hull. It buckled the armour on the floor of the Prydwen, but it wasn't enough to punch through.

"We need more." Arthur ran back towards the encroaching waterline and dug through the munitions supply. He wiped his hand over his forehead clearing the blood that threatened to fall into his eyes again and began fossicking in the aisles. They had heaps of nukes… they had to have something else… grenades, more mines. Where had Zac gotten the first mine?

He hoped that everyone else had got out. As long as everyone else got out he would be OK to go down with the ship. As long as Max got out. She had to be OK, she had been on the roof as far as he knew… God, he hoped she was OK.

Zac whistled sharply. He'd found a crate of grenades and was struggling to pull them on the tilt uphill to the end of the ship. Arthur laboured to his side and grabbed hold of the crates other handle. The ship was sinking faster and faster as it took on more dank water from Lake Michigan.

"How many do you think?" Zac asked, gasping to fill his lungs with air. If this didn't work it would probably be the last air he ever tasted.

Maxson did a quick sum in his head, hull integrity versus likelihood of breaching the hydrogen tanks and dowsing the whole place in flames. "Try Five?"

"Are you sure?"

"No."

Zac glared at him hard before stuffing four grenades into the small crater that they had already made with the mine. He dragged a metal trunk over the hole… he needed it to blast outwards not just explode on the surface. He pulled the pin on the fifth grenade, said a quick prayer to whomever might be listening and tossed it the little gap he'd left open, before booking it.

 **AN: Never sunk a ship before, have no idea how to do it... can rewrite if need be :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Haven't spell checked or anything... sorry, just wanted to post asap.**

 **Chapter 14 – My Kingdom for a Gun**

Zac and Arthur dragged themselves from out of the water and sat on the shore gasping for air. They both were sick to their stomachs from the radiation in the water and in pain from their injuries sustained in the crash. Zac could no longer put any weight on his leg and Arthur was having trouble focusing his eyes and his head thudded with an unrelenting agony.

In the distance, the Prydwen, the pride of the Brotherhood of Steel, was almost totally submerged. Her massive rudder was sitting out of the water, parallel with the horizon. The vast weight of the vessel and the gallons of water she had taken on, too much even for the tanks of hydrogen that used to keep her airborne.

Maxson and Zac needed to get moving somehow. Along this beach… somewhere, the rest of the crew had found shore and were regrouping, taking stock and formulating their next course of action. They were also, hopefully, gearing up for conflict as whomever had shot down their ship would surely be coming out to check on the wreckage.

"They would look for shelter." Maxson said, fighting off a wave of nausea and blinking rapidly to clear his sight. "They would need to treat the radiation poisoning."

"Over there…" Zac pointed to a large complex in the distance, to the west.

Maxson helped Zac to his feet and they limped slowly towards the building. As they got closer they saw that it was indeed where the Brotherhood had assembled. Armed knights came out to meet them as they approached and Zac saw Boone and MacCready on the rooftop keeping watch. They had no doubt alerted the knights to their approach.

Proctor Cade came bustling out of the activity, Radaway and Stimpaks in hand. Kells followed.

"Elder." He greeted Maxson with relief, "we thought we'd lost you, sir."

"No such luck… Report." Maxson responded crisply, comforted as the chems worked their magic on his damaged body.

"Five souls lost, Sir" Kells reported sadly. "three scribes and two knights all were stationed on the flight deck at the time of impact. So we have forty three accounted for including yourselves."

"You need to check your sums there, Kells" Zac interjected as Cade prodded at his leg "you seem to be one down."

"Yes sir. General Everton has not checked in."

Maxsons jaw clenched and he threw a glance at the wreck. "She was on the roof." He asserted.

"Yes sir and she was with us during the evac... she went back inside…" Kells tried to explain.

"YOU LET HER GO BACK IN?"

Kells flinched back from his commanding officer and Maxsons face contorted in rage.

Zac was up and putting a restraining hand on Maxsons arm when there was a whistle from MacCready on the roof. They all turned and then followed his gesture towards the water. Anyone who had a weapon suddenly had it in their hand, thinking that the hostiles had found them.

Instead of an army of bad guys, a lone figure waded from the water encased in bright red X01 power armour… with black flames and carrying a sealed footlocker. The figure placed the locker on the ground with care and then cracked the suit open. Max alighted from her suit and strolled up to the group conferring on the beach.

"Oh hey, Arthur… Zac." She greeted them casually. "Have either of you seen my rifle?"

Maxson blinked at her and Zac cracked a grin. Kells backed away from his CO and busied himself by ordering knights and scribes to get inside and out of sight.

"I'm serious…Have you seen my gun?" She asked again.

Maxson shook his head dumbly.

"Did you just walk here, underwater, from the Prydwen?" Zac asked.

"Yeah." She nodded. "I'm thinking I might go back… I need my gun." She looked wistfully back at the Prydwen… almost lost from view.

"We'll get you a new damned gun." Arthur said shakily, finally finding his voice. He wanted to take her up in a fierce embrace but there were too many subordinates watching.

"I loved that gun." She shook her head sadly. She pouted and stomped across the beach to the footlocker that she had carried with her. She stooped and opened it up and extracted her leathers and body armour. She then proceeded to strip off her wet stealth suit, right there on the beach. Zac grinned openly and with great appreciation, Cade respectfully turned his back and from the rooftop, MacCready could be heard guffawing.

Arthur was struck dumb for a moment and just stared open mouthed at her. The woman had no decorum, he thought as he pulled off his coat and standing in front of her, held it up shielding her naked body from the view of the soldiers. She gave him a quick look and a smile but continued to dress.

She strapped on the last piece of her armour, buckled on her belt and holstered her 10mm. She slung her shotgun over her shoulder and pulled her long dark hair into a ponytail.

"We can't hang around here." She said finally, settling her helmet on her head, "Is everyone good to go?"

Maxson nodded and slid his coat back over his shoulders. They headed towards the complex, a knight coming up and collecting the footlocker containing the supplies that she had managed to scavenge before the ship had submerged.

They found themselves in what looked to be an old artists studio and gallery. The soldiers all stood and came to attention as the Elder entered the room. The Courier came forward to meet them, Boone and MacCready must have stayed on the roof to keep watch.

"First up," Zac said, "Does anyone know where we are?" He was leaning against an old desk trying to wring lake water out of the legs of his pants.

Max flicked on her pipboy and examined her map. "Looks like we're in Gary, Indiana… or there abouts. My geography isn't that great."

Zac suddenly laughed, "Ha Ha Gary!" Everyone looked at him weirdly for a moment but he waved them off "You had to be there, I guess" He dismissed their looks with a grin, "Vault Clones? … never mind"

Max continued "The missile came from the Northwest over the water. I guess from Chicago." She looked over to the Courier, "You said that the Enclave were still active in Chicago right? Could they have shot us down? Maybe an automated surface to air defence system?"

The Courier just shrugged.

Maxson stepped forward. "We need to take inventory and prepare to move out."

"Where are we going, exactly?" Max asked.

"We carry on west, as planned." Maxson replied, frowning at Maxs sudden frown.

She shifted her weight on her feet, looked around at the gathered Brotherhood soldiers and her frown deepened. She took hold of Maxsons arm and pulled him out of the room, closing the door behind them. Zac and the Courier exchanged a look before Zac straightened and took control of the room.

"Lancer Captain Kells, can you please get started on that inventory and see if anything can be salvaged from this site." He said in an uncharacteristically commanding voice. "I want to make sure everyone is in suitable condition for a long march as well."

Kells gave a Brotherhood salute "Yes, Sentinel." He began to dish out orders to the knights and scribes.

"Sentinel?" Courier asked, cocking an eyebrow at the Lone Wanderer. "I thought you weren't in the Brotherhood?"

"I'm not." He nodded his head towards the door that Max and Maxson had headed through and they both followed.

They walked in half way through a heated conversation.

"I'm serious, Arthur." Max was saying, "Send them back. I'm not trying to insult your people. We don't have the resources for a prolonged march with forty plus soldiers… What will they eat? And drink? We lost almost everything when the Prydwen went down, we have no supplies."

"My people can take care of themselves." Maxson said loftily.

"Can they?" Max interjected. "Not to be critical, but we also have another problem. Yeah, it's a small army but your Brotherhood soldiers are trained in Power Armour warfare and laser weapons and the walk to Las Vegas will be full analogue. There are serious gaps in your training. Will they be able to cope with the march itself?"

Maxson looked offended. Zac laughed nervously from the doorway easing it closed behind him.

Max continued mercilessly. "In the Institute your people had a hard go of it with hand to hand combat and ballistic weapons… You did OK…" She conceded, actually he was pretty awesome, "But even you were hard pressed. Of the seven Brotherhood elite who went in, and I am including Danse, only three came out and I have it on good authority that you were pretty beat up. All I am saying is, the Brotherhood training is reliant on tech and force, not necessarily what we will need on this little hike that you are proposing."

"She's not wrong." The Courier said, backing Max. "Your guys are strong, but not fit. It will be slow going as they adjust to walking. They'll be tired and they will need more food and water than you can provide. Ballistic ammo is easier to come by in the wastes than energy ammo and sometimes a gun just isn't practical. They would need training to move forward."

"My soldiers are my concern." Max dismissed them both.

"Listen, Arthur." Max pressed him "I'm not saying we all go back… A small group will have a better chance of making it to Vegas. Send the bulk back to Nuka World, about eight hundred and fifty-ish miles of land we've seen and have a little knowledge of the dangers in and the smaller group tackles the two thousand miles to Vegas."

"Actually, from here… it'll be just over seventeen hundred miles." The Courier inserted helpfully.

Maxson looked from Max, to Courier, to Zac, who nodded and inclined his head towards Max.

"Who comes with me? I can't turn back." He said.

"Well, me, that goes without saying." She smiled as if she had won a great victory. "Courier and Boone, they going that way anyway and they can take care of themselves."

"Gee, thanks." Courier murmured.

"Zacs handy in a fight. Maybe RJ, so he had someone to talk to. And Cade, so we have a trained medical professional. Seven intrepid explorers and everyone else goes back with Kells. We'll travel lighter and faster and it won't be so hard to scavenge for supplies."

"Cade should return with the group." Maxson argued.

"Nope." Max countered. "Cade should go with his Elder. The group has Curie, Haylen and a team of medically trained field scribes."

Maxson looked hard at her. "Fine." He said shortly.

Max flashed him a bright smile.

"OK then, let go and prep the brothers and sisters for their march and suit up for our own stroll through the wasteland."

Maxson lead them back into the main gallery and found Kells. He was not happy with the new plan but would not argue with his Elder. The group divided up the stores so the bulk would be totted by the returning group of thirty seven and the seven who were going on filled packs and belt with what they could, keep in got the bare necessities.

MacCready was stoked to have been included in the group moving forward but he spent a long time talking softly to Curie in a corner, she was visibly upset with having to be parted from the young merc. Cade looked nervous but resigned about being included but he agreed that he should be the one to go with the Elder. Boone remained on the rooftop.

The seven who would walk to Vegas watched as the group of Brotherhood soldiers and the three returning Minutemen walked back to the east and the Commonwealth beyond. They were laden down with as much as they could carry.

"How long will it take them to get there?" Maxson asked as he watched them go.

"Depends on how hard Kells pushes them… probably a month or two." Max answered softly, "In my day, a ruck march was about twelve miles in three hours and that was pretty hard graft."

Max hoped that the Brotherhood soldiers took her warning seriously. She had stood before them and told them in no uncertain terms that if anything happened to her three people on the march back, all thirty four of the remaining troop would answer to her personally… her and her shotgun. She worried about her people in that group. They'd had it hard on the way here.

Maxson grunted to himself. A couple of months? How long would it take them to reach Vegas if that was the case?

"Is anyone else confused as to why no one has come looking for us?" Zac asked. "I mean, they must know that they shot down the ship… they must know that there were survivors."

"I don't plan on being here if someone _does_ come looking." Courier said quietly. "We need to move out now."

Boone nodded and took point, Cade and Maxson trailed behind him. Max, Zac and Courier came next and MacCready took up the rear of the group.

Max looked warily at the unfamiliar ruins around her as she walked.

"I feel slightly exposed… I need to find a new damned rifle." She snarked.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 – Routines**

The small group of companions made good time on their first day. Even Proctor Cade, who was unused to walking for any great length of time, fared surprisingly well. They had no encounters to speak of, no sign of the people or organisation that shot down the Prydwen.

They took shelter on their first night in a ruined concert hall. Courier and Boone stalked around the place checking for hostiles and threats before declaring it safe to bunk down in. They ate a quick meal together and took up watch in pairs throughout the night. Maxson was the only one not to take watch that first night. Courier had devised a rotating roster where one person had a full nights sleep each evening. In fact, the Courier had been given charge over the whole expedition given his experience in long range hiking.

Max got the midnight to three watch with Proctor Cade. She cradled Boones rifle in her hands and Cade clutched her shotgun to him.

"I'm sorry you lost your rifle." Cade said quietly, mindful of the others sleeping not far away.

"I didn't lose it." Max said sullenly. "I know where it is. It's inside the Prydwen at the bottom of Lake Michigan."

Cade gave a gentle smile.

"I don't know your first name, Cade." Max said, "We're going to be travelling with each other for a while, we should know each others names."

"It's Dylan." He said. "I guess the Brotherhood isn't the most interpersonal of organisations."

"Dylan Cade… that's dead sexy." She grinned at him.

Cade smiled back and then turned his attention back to the wasteland outside, "First names are important to you aren't they. I've noticed that you call people by their first names"

Max shrugged. "I guess it's a way for me to connect with people…I went for so long thinking of people as nothing but targets, knowing names humanises them for me"

The two of them sat in companionable silence for the rest of their watch and at three they woke Boone and Zac for their stint at staring out at the wastes. Max gave up Boones rifle grudgingly.

Max curled up and went to sleep the instant her head touched the ground. It seemed like she had just closed her eyes when Boone shook her gently awake again. The sun was up and a new day was beginning. The men all looked to her expectantly as she rolled to her feet.

"What?" She asked moodily, she wasn't good with mornings.

Courier gave her a grin, knowing what he was about to say would piss her off. "You get to be the first one to cook. I have a roster. Get in the kitchen, little lady. The menfolk are hungry."

Surprisingly, she gave a snort but no other hint of protest, she dug through the packs and began pulling out supplies. "We're gonna have to hunt and gather. Our dried stores won't last long." She said before disappearing into the old catering kitchen at the back of the immense hall.

"I was expecting her to throw something at me." Courier said softly. "I'm actually disappointed."

After a hot breakfast, something they all knew wouldn't be an everyday occurrence, they combed the theatre for supplies before packing up and moving on.

Boone took down a molerat on the march west. He and the Courier squatted down to dress it before stowing the meat and carrying on their way. The group were obstructed for a while by the presence of a river. They turned north in search of a bridge or narrow point to cross over and they found an intact bridge outside of a dilapidated iron works and proceeded west again. They took shelter in the ruins of an elementary school. They ate and set watch through the night. Max was on watch with MacCready until midnight when they woke Maxson & Zac to take over. Cade got to sleep through that night and in the morning, Boone sullenly made breakfast and they scoured the school for supplies and then set off again.

They were getting into a rhythm and routine and as the days passed they started doing things automatically. The three snipers took turns on point and taking up the rear. Their eyes were the best at picking up movement and their nerves better at picking up on threats. Max either borrowed Boones or MacCready rifles when she was in either of the positions but everyone knew she was missing having her own weapon. Boone had been surprised by the name of her beloved rifle and the reason she named it. 'The last thing you never see" was the motto of both the NCR First Recon and her own unit from over two hundred years before.

On the third day of travel, Max was on rear guard. She strolled along behind the group with MacCreadys rifle in her hands. She was wary. She had the feeling that they were being watched and the ones doing the watching were not friendly. She had wondered why they had seen no other people so far. She was beginning to think that it was because they didn't want to be seen.

They had seen the usual creatures that inhabit the wastelands, mirelurks along the waterways and the various types of mutated bugs and critters... But they had seen no people. No raiders, traders, settlers or mercs. Illinois seemed to be deserted. That couldn't have been the case however as who had shot their airship down?

Max can't have been the only one to think this as all of them seemed on edge. Boone stalked out in front, slowing the pace, his eyes everywhere at once. Scanning buildings and groves of long dead trees, clusters of rusted vehicles and hilltops in the distance. The Courier walked with his hand on his sequoia, Zac did the same with his laser pistol. Maxson, Cade & MacCready has spread out further than usual, their eyes darting from darkened doorway to rooftop.

They took refuge that night in what looked like an old public building; a courthouse or town hall or something. Max took the dawn watch with Courier and in the morning Arthur Maxson tried his hand at cooking. It wasn't too dismal.

After searching the building and finding a really good cache of supplies including food, chems, side arms and ammo, they moved out once more.

Max was in the pack that day, walking beside Maxson and Zac. MacCready had point, a new 10mm pistol holstered at his hip and Boone trailed behind the group, he also had acquired a new sidearm. Max was actually enjoying the morning. It was not overly warm and Zac was great conversationalist. Maxson was content to listen to them banter. Just ahead Cade and Courier were having an in depth conversation about medicinal qualities of plants. In the moments where there were lulls in the conversation, Max found herself humming. No one had been able to find a radio signal on their pipboys, at least nothing that wasn't static. Max was used to hearing Travis 'lonely' Miles and hearing the small array of tunes that he had on hand.

She wondered how Travis was, and how he was adjusting to the idea of becoming a father. When she had first met Travis he had been a mousy kind of guy. He was nervous and scared of his own shadow. He had changed a lot over the last couple of years into a confident and mouthy friend… a friend who was apparently capable of seducing and stealing away a Brotherhood Paladin. She smiled to herself at the thought.

She wondered how everyone else in the Commonwealth was faring, she found herself missing them. Nick Valentine had taken control of the settlement police force, though the laws of the commonwealth was really more of an honours system at this stage. He coordinated missing person searches and settled disputes and found stolen items. Piper Wright was now the editor and chief of Publick Occurances and spent all of her times lording over her staff of reporters and fact checkers. They didn't have a deadline for their publications yet, but they were getting to the point where they would need one to satisfy their readership.

So many people that Max had met over the last two years. She was proud of what she had all of them had accomplished.

Max began humming again and on hearing her, Zac started to hum along to the familiar song. He started to sing a moment later. He wasn't half bad either. Max kept on humming until he turned over the vocals to her and she took up the tune where he'd left off.

"Into each life some rain must fall," She sang. "but too much is falling in mine…"

She sang well… not as well as Zac did, to be fair, but she could hold a tune. They sang together in the last verse and of course, the legendary Lone Wanderer could harmonise like a pro.

Max just happened to be looking in the right direction, she doubted she would have seen it if she had looked a second earlier or later, a glint from among the rubble in a factory yard. She knew what it was the instant she saw it. A scope.

She reacted as fast as she was able. She shouldered Maxson out of the way just in time to hear the echo of the shot. Saved him, she thought.

She inexplicable lurched sideways and felt a sting in her neck… must have pulled a ligament, she thought vaguely. Getting old.

Max righted herself but found that she was suddenly unsteady on her feet… she was also choking and that made no sense. Her hand flew to her throat. It felt wet. Why was she choking?

Arthur had come up to her and grabbed her roughly by the arms. The blood had drained from his face and he suddenly looked like a sweet lost little boy. She liked Arthur. She was glad he was OK. She smiled at him.

She was having trouble drawing breath. Why was she choking? She gave a cough to clear her throat, spraying Maxsons jumpsuit and the ground with bright crimson blood. She looked at it on wonder and confusion. What was that? She coughed again, the fine red tinted mist danced before her again and she toppled forwards into Maxsons arms.

* * *

Max woke up alone in a darkened cell with slick steel walls. She was tucked in tightly to a plain cot with a rough blanket. There was an IV stand by her bed slowing dripping fluids into a long plastic tube and then into her body via a needle embedded in her hand. There was a cracked porcelain basin against one wall and the broken remains of a toilet. Max swallowed painfully and she raised her hand to her throat. It was wrapped in gauze. Max pulled back the blanket in her cot and slowly swung her feet to the floor. She stumbled a little when she tried to stand, she was in what looked like an old fashioned hospital gown, covering her front but leaving her arse exposed. There was a cool draft coming from a vent near the floor.

Max shuffled over and tested the heavy steel door of the little cell, it was locked. Of course, it was locked… she was in a cell. She examined the lock closely… she would need a few things but she could pick this. She pulled the IV needle from her hand and searched around her cot. She unwound a spring from the interconnecting wire and straightened out the wire. She took her new tools and crouched before the door and with only minimum fuss the lock clicked open.

She eased open the door and took a quick look into the corridor beyond. A man stood by her door, his broad back facing her as he looked down the corridor. She grabbed hold of him, dragged him into her cell and locked her arms around his neck, lending her dead weight to hold him still. She squeezed on his carotid artery, starving his brain of oxygen and let him drift into unconsciousness. He put up a bit of a fight but she'd had the element of surprise and had time to lock in the choke hold before he could react. She relieved him of his side arm and left him on the floor. She snuck back into the corridor and slunk down the hallway. She was halted by a closed blast door. There was an insignia emblazoned on the door and she narrowed her eyes at it before looking at the laser pistol that she held in her hand.

Well, Fuck! The Brotherhood of Steel.

She ran her hand over her face before pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes.

The blast door before her suddenly whooshed open and standing on the other side was Proctor Cade. He blinked in surprise at seeing her standing there aiming a pilfered laser pistol at him, her eyes sparking dangerously.

"Max?" He said, reaching his hand out to her.

She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. She clutched at her throat and looked up at the doctor in shock before crumpling onto the floor.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: I am fully prepared to rewrite or edit these chapters. I have had to google a bit to get the gist of these guys and though there is nothing about them in the timeline that this story is set in, if you know something I don't, let me know and I will fix it.**

 **Chapter 16 – The Midwestern Brotherhood**

Elder Arthur Maxson was relieved. As he sat amongst his travelling companions and looked out at the always bleak landscape passing swiftly below the Vertibird, he was relieved that they were once again safe in the bosom of the Brotherhood of Steel and winging their way towards a well reputed stronghold. Max was safe and after they completed this trip, she would be well again as well.

She sat across from him between Cade and Zac. She looked angry but at least she didn't look half dead and have blood spilling out of her any more. The Courier, MacCready and Zac had been teasing her about not being able to talk. The bullet that had speared through her neck, had damaged her vocal cords and they were now on their way to the town of Galesburg and the Brotherhood of Steel's Bunker Beta. The bunker was equipped with an Autodoc which would thoroughly repair all of the damage done by the unknown sniper.

Despite knowing that she was going to be able to talk again, Max had been in a foul mood since she woke in the Joliet Ammunition Plants brig. The Brotherhood soldiers who manned the site had no medical facilities and had utilised what they had to help treat the wounded woman. The brig had seemed like a good idea, being quiet and warm and far away from the rigours of the plant. They had not counted on Max waking while Cade had left the room to get coffee and thinking herself a prisoner.

Maxson was relieved that she had not killed the knight stationed outside her door for her protection. It would have been understandable from her standpoint but not polite to their hosts.

The trip to Bunker Beta was for more than just treating Maxs current affliction. Maxson would be meeting the Midwestern Elder for the first time.

The vertibird circled their destination. Max recognised the building as the National Guard Readiness Centre, the signage had long since crumbled but she had seen pictures of the site in its heyday. The bird landed on what had been the vast lawn behind a set of imposing walls. The group alighted one at a time, Max was handed down by Boone who then supported her as she walked. She was not weakened but welcomed his help. She'd had to watch and listen to Elder Maxson talk crap for the last day and a half. To believe every word he'd said would mean that every good decision ever made was his idea and every bad decision made was someone elses error. The closer they came to Bunker Beta the more insufferable he became. She was quite frankly sick of the sight of him and hanging back with Boone was a godsend.

The group were met by a pair of Power armoured knights who lead them into the barricaded fortress and in turn into the basement entrance to the bunker itself. Maxson was back to his peacock self. The same arrogant little twat she had first met on the command deck of the Prydwen a year and a half ago, when Danse had first introduced her to him. She wanted to slap the smug look off his face.

They were led through the bunker and were soon separated off to their separate business, Maxson to meet the Elder, Cade and Max to the infirmary and the waiting Autodoc and the rest to do as little as possible, somewhere out of the way.

Upon reaching the infirmary, Max was soon enclosed in the Autodoc, glad that she wasn't claustrophobic The door slid closed and began its start-up sounds. Cade started the Pre-op function and settled in for the wait. He would sit here for as long as it took. He was not going to let a patient wake without him being there again. It seemed to be bad for everyones health when he did.

* * *

Elder Arthur Maxson sat in the comfortable chair opposite the colossal human being in power armour. Elder Dekker was not just intimidating, he was a giant. Maxson wondered where they managed to find Power Armour to fit him. He had just returned from a patrol with a squad of his men. He was a hands-on kind of leader, respected by all who met him, but his busy schedule meant he could not meet the group on the surface when they arrived.

Dekker stood at seven foot tall and encased in the Power Armour, he looked closer to eight feet. He was not handsome by any stretch of the imagination. With darkly tanned and weathered skin and muddy coloured eyes, his face was a maze of scars, the most predominant of which stretched from his left temple all the way down to his jaw, barely missing his left eye. His thick copse of black hair was not even close to being tamed, it was so long it had to be tied at his nape. In truth, he looked more like a savage than a Brotherhood Elder.

Despite his outwards appearance, he was a man of very good manners and education. And his lineage was sublime, almost as impressive as Maxsons, his great grandfather had been Elder of the Midwestern chapter years before, in a most turbulent time in the Brotherhood of Steels history.

Elder Dekker stepped down and out of his Power Armour, straightened his jumpsuit and took a seat across from the youthful leader of the east coast Brotherhood.

"It was a surprise to stumble upon you in such circumstances, Elder Maxson." Dekker said, his voice a deep bass, but cultured and clear. "We expected you might pass this way…but…"

"Our airship, The Prydwen, was shot down over the lake. It was a surprise for me to be travelling this way as well, believe me." Maxson replied with a wry smile, accepting the glass of whiskey that was pushed across the table to him.

"Ah…" Dekker nodded. "You should have been warned. The automated defences left in place by the Enclave are still active. You must have crossed their thirty five mile perimeter."

Arthur leaned forwards in his chair in interest. "The Enclave are still in the area?"

"No, not anymore. Their outposts have all been destroyed, but the surface to air defence system is still active. No one here could ever figure out how to turn the blasted thing off." Dekker sent a rueful look at the Elder, before changing the subject. "Where are the rest of your honour guard? Such a small group of survivors."

"We only lost five in the crash itself. The rest of the crew are on their way back to the Commonwealth on foot. We hadn't the resources to continue on with such a large force. But I have the very best with me as my continued escort." Arthur answered, sipping at his drink.

"A sound decision, Elder." Dekker approved, his chair creaked warningly as he leaning his vast frame back in it. "I must also apologise for the damage done to the lady in your group. Despite our best efforts the Midwest is not as safe as we would hope, there are pockets of barbarism all over."

"I am assured she will be fine. And the perpetrator has been dealt with." Maxson smiled. "She will be happy again soon, we have acquired her a new rifle."

In truth the perpetrator had been killed twofold. Both Boone and MacCready had fired almost simultaneously, the man responsible for the whole fracas received two .308 rounds to the head, rendering him unrecognisable when they had approached his corpse.

Dekker smiled at that, exposing a set of surprising dimples. "She seems formidable. I'm not sure Knight Carter will put his back to a door ever again."

"She is certainly something." Maxson grinned. "I was quite pleased that she didn't kill him."

Maxson and Dekker talked for some time, becoming acquainted with each other and soon the discussion turned to the future of the East Coast Elders continuing journey.

"We can airlift you as far as Bunker Epsilon in the west. It is at the very edge of our territory. After that, you will be heading into tribal lands and Legion territory. Are you sure I can't dispatch a squad with you?" Dekker asked concerned. "They could lead you as far as Denver. The lands out there are much more treacherous than you may think."

"No, thank you. We will make our own way. I have an experienced guide in the Courier," Maxson declined gracefully. "You will already be saving us valuable time by taking us to Epsilon, we don't wish to impose on you any further."

"In that case, Elder, I look forward to your summons in the near future.' Dekker replied, taking to his feet and saluting the younger man. "While you are here, the bunker is open to you. We'll resupply you when your entourage have recovered and rested sufficiently and see you on your way at your leisure."

Maxson stood and saluted in return.

A knight appeared in the doorway and saluted the two Elders. "Sir, the Proctor has advised that the lady is awake." He told them before backing out of the room and standing aside from them in the corridor beyond.

"You should come and meet the rest of my party." Maxson invited Dekker. He hesitated before adding. "The General may be a little out of sorts… but I'm sure it will be fine."

They made their way to the infirmary and were greeted with the sight of Maxs half naked form. Maxson sighed… Was the woman incapable of keeping her clothes on? Cade had his back turned respectfully to the lady and Max was dressing in her leathers. She turned towards the door as it opened to the two Elders and she pulled her undershirt over her bare breasts.

"Next time you can take you own damned bullet." She growled at Maxson with her newly restored voice. "I flat out refuse to get shot for you again."

She dragged her jacket over her shoulders and zipped it up with force.

"Oh yeah, and thanks for the heads up on us being in Brotherhood territory… Fuck you, Arthur." She pushed passed the two Elders and stomped off into the corridor. Maxson suddenly wished that she was still incapable of speech.

Maxson grimaced and looked apologetically at Elder Dekker. "That was General Maxine Everton of the Commonwealth Minutemen."

Elder Dekker was looking down the corridor at the retreating General with interest and only nodded acknowledgement of the introduction.

"This is Proctor Cade, the finest physician in the Brotherhood of Steel… Thank you Cade, for your care of the General." Maxson said, magnanimously.

Cade smiled. "It was a pleasure as always, sir." He said, saluting Elder Dekker who nodded in return.

Maxson grunted. "Where is everyone else? I would like to introduce them to the Elder."

"Sentinel Hobson and Major MacCready are in the rec room playing pool. The Courier found the repository and Boone is outside in the tower." Cade answered crisply. "General Everton said that she was going to find something to 'beat the shit out of'. I hope you have a gymnasium Elder Dekker… otherwise, I may be treating some more of your knights."

Dekker gave a short laugh. "We have a well equipped gym, I assure you."

"If you'll excuse me elders. I wanted to consult with your Proctor about some of the dangers of the mid west and what we may encounter in the mountains." He saluted the Elders again, thumping his fist to his chest before leaving the infirmary.

Elder Dekker was not really interested in meeting the rest of the group. He would, however, like to get better acquainted with that General. He sighed inwardly and lead Maxson towards the rec room to meet his Sentinel and one of the Generals officers. The Major and the Sentinel proved to be quite engaging men, and while he was talking to them, the enigmatic Courier wandered into the room nodded on their direction before finding a seat, putting his feet on the table, pulling his hat down over his eyes and promptly falling asleep.

Elder Dekker spoke to them for few moments longer and then excused himself under the guise of bunker business.

He did not return to his office.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Two chapters in one night. Review… How's this all working out for you?**

 **Chapter 17 – The Dinner Date**

Max looked up at the sound of the deep bass voice rumbling from the edge of the mat and blinked in surprise at the enormous man standing there… Elder Dekker. She recalled pushing past him earlier.

She gave him a smile as she pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail and checked the fastenings on her gloves.

"Elder.' She responded to his greeting. "I apologise for being so rude before. I am grateful for your timely assistance despite my appearance to the contrary." She stepped forward and extended her hand towards him. She hesitated, she was always forgetting that people didn't shake hands anymore. Her smile widened though, when the Elder took her hand in a firm grasp and gave it a warm shake. He smiled in return revealing a set of the cutest dimples you'd ever seen. It changed his face from that of a grizzled mountain man to a movie star.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, General Everton." He rumbled, his deep voice sending vibrations around the room "and a pleasure to be of service to such a beautiful woman. Can I offer assistance in your training at all?"

She grinned and offered a little blush at the compliment. "You can spar with me… I prefer it to bag work." She accepted coyly.

Dekker frowned a little. "I'm nearly twice your weight and quite a bit taller than you." He pointed out.

She shrugged as if that meant nothing. "I doubt all of my opponents will be my size and weight, Elder. I must learn somehow. You'll need a box though, I don't fight fair."

He smiled again and stepped onto the mat. "and are you going to change into sweats?"

"I doubt my opponents will allow me to stop and change clothes either. Let's try to make this as realistic as possible… without killing each other, that is."

The two other people using the gym at the time, a pair of off duty Paladins, stopped what they were doing, turned and came to the mat to watch their Elder decimate the newcomer. Dekker looked down at the woman, fresh out of an Autodoc after being shot through the throat. He would be gentle with her, of course. He motioned to one of the Paladins, who retrieved a set of gloves and helped the Elder put them on. The Elder then turned back to the General and sighed.

"OK then, at least we know the Autodoc is warmed up and ready to go."

She grinned at him and they began to circle each other. The Elder had no doubt that she was a skilled fighter. Her steps were light and deliberate and she carried herself well, though she seemed more of a dancer than a scrapper. He decided to test out her speed and was abruptly forced to reassess.

He lunged at her and found himself suddenly on his back on the mat. She had somehow flipped his massive frame over and was perched on his chest with her forearm resting across his throat. The two watching Paladins gasped.

Dekker blinked up at the woman and cringed as he felt her knee tucking up against his genitals. She had stopped short of striking him in the nether regions. "Yeah… about that box." She grinned down at him for a moment longer before climbing off and backing up to the edge of the mat, waiting for him to get to his feet. He did so quickly and gave a rueful look to one of his Paladins who sourced some additional protection for the Elder, who judiciously tucked it into the front of his jumpsuit.

They began to circle each other again and Dekker looked for an opening. If he struck her even once, he would have her for sure, but she was proving to be lightning fast and very limber. He went for her again when he saw one of her shoulders drop a little. He even managed to get hold of her but was shocked when she stepped into him, levered herself off the ground and, using his calf muscle as a stepping stone, scissored her thighs around his throat and dragged him to the floor again using her body as a dead weight. She rolled off him faster than he could process the series of movements and crouched out of reach, watching him like a predator.

"I've never seen this fighting style before… you're obviously a proficient at it." He said with admiration as he rolled to his feet.

"It's a combination of styles, but I mostly utilise Brazilian Juijitsu. It's an art that seems to have died out with the bombs." She told him as she backed up a little more, keeping well out of his long reach.

"What happens if I hit you?" He asked curiously, starting to circle again.

She glanced at one of his huge fists. "I imagine I will be unconscious for some time." She grinned.

The next time they come together, Max was knocked backwards by a fist to the gut. She fell heavily and rolled to the side and back to her feet. "See, we're not going to get anywhere if you pull your punches." She panted, knowing full well that if he had managed to connect with proper force she would still be down.

He flashed her a quick dimpled grin. He was really enjoying himself. He was glad he had come to see her after meeting her group.

"I was wondering, General." Dekker said carefully, watching her stalk around the mat. "If I could interest you in dinner this evening?"

"Were we not eating otherwise?" Max asked raising an eyebrow at the hulking Elder.

"I am asking you for a private audience." He said, flashing his dimples again. "With marginally better food than the mess and less noise to converse over."

"Are you asking me out on a date?" Max knew exactly which smile to use in this instance.

"If you would like to define it as such… then yes, I suppose I am."

"If you can take me down… I accept. If I drop you however…" She left it hanging there.

Dekker smirked at her and began to take this session very seriously. Both leaders had noticed that the crowd was slowly growing. The two Paladins had been joined by half a dozen more observers. He'd better put on a good display for his people.

She took him by surprise though, coming at him low and tackling him around the knees. As he fell, she wrapped her body around him, getting his left leg in some kind of unbreakable hold that painfully stressed on his knee joint. He conceded and rolled away from the woman as she released him, disappointed that he wouldn't get his dinner date.

She regained her footing and watched him stand also.

"I can see how effective the techniques are. Can someone my size utilise them?" Dekker asked. He would be an unstoppable force if he could take down someone more than a foot taller than he was, as easily as she conquered him.

"We can discuss it over dinner, if you like." She smiled up at him, before untying her gloves and strolling from the room. "See you at seven." She threw back over her shoulder.

* * *

Max luxuriated in the shower for much longer than she should have, using all of her hot water rations at once.

When she stepped from her bathroom and into the bedroom, there was a polite knock on the door. She opened it to find a pretty scribe standing outside holding a package in her arms.

"Good evening, General Everton." The scribe gave a weird kind of curtsy and then blushed when she realised it was probably unwarranted. She held out the package. "Compliments of Elder Dekker, Ma'am."

Max opened her mouth to thank her, but she was off down the corridor in an instant. Max made a confused face and backed back into her room, closing her door behind her. She picked up the slip of paper that rested on top of the package and read the note written in, quite frankly, a very elegant hand.

'I'm hoping our meal won't require quite so much armour. BD'

She quirked her eyebrow at the note and lay the package down on the desk, opened it and smiled brightly. It was a dress. A really pretty dress, though she thought it may be a bit much for a quiet dinner in a military bunker.

It was silver and covered in sequins. It slipped tastefully off her shoulders, showcasing her de'collatage and was quite form fitting, its drop finishing mid thigh. Max was obviously a little taller than the original owner and a tab bit more curvy. It was a little tight in some areas. She slipped it on and admired it in the polished steel mirror in her ensuite. She left her long dark hair loose and cascading around her shoulders. She looked alright.

The time came and she left her room and walked the length of the underground facility to the Elders quarters, passing through the mess on her way. Maxson and the rest of her party were assembled there for the evening meal and they all looked over at her in astonishment as she sashayed passed. She gave them a quick wave as she went.

Maxsons eyes went dark as he watched her pass. Zac and Cade exchanged a long look and both grimaced at the expression on his face. The Courier glanced at Boone behind his glasses, he saw a slight twitch in Boones jaw but no other reaction otherwise, he looked back down at his dinner. MacCready, always subtle, let out a high pitched wolf whistle and laughed at his superior officer and friend. It garnered a very unladylike gesture directed at him as she swanned from the room again.

"Ha, she flipped me off, spoiled the effect." MacCready laughed. "I wonder where she got that dress from." He continued, looking back at his plate, oblivious to the tension at the table.

The knight sitting beside him at the end of the table answered. "Elder Dekker gave it to her as an apology for her being injured in his territory. And she won the private dinner when they were sparring this afternoon. I was there for the fight, she's amazing." He said.

The chatty knight continued on, describing her fighting style and how she had the Elder off his feet no less than three times. As he spoke, Maxsons face got darker and darker, before he stood up abruptly and swept from the room.

Zac leaned towards Cade. "Do you think this is a good time to remind him that he's trying to unite the brotherhood… not kill the other Elders?" He whispered.

"I think we shouldn't get involved at all. It's just dinner and we'll be gone from here in a day or so." Cade responded quietly.

MacCready was talking loudly to his new knight friend. "Do you think if I beat the Elder in a fight he'd take me to dinner too, or if I got shot I'd get a dress?"

The knight laughed.

A moment later, Boone stood up and excused himself as well. The Courier looked after his friend before shrugging and finishing his meal.

* * *

It was much later in the evening when Boone was returning from the surface, that he happened upon Max in the corridor. She was leaning against the wall with her shoes in her hands and her hand over her eyes. She was wearing that tiny, tight dress.

"You alright?" He asked, coming to her side.

"Yeah." She slurred. "Had a little too much wine… can't focus my eyes."

He grunted and was about to walk on,but she took hold of his arm, stopping him from leaving.

"Help me to my room, Boone? I'm not so steady on my feet either." She blinked at him owlishly and gave him a dreamy kind of smile.

He'd heard that she was a lightweight when it came to booze. MacCready had said that she'd gotten completely blotto on four beers at one of her birthday parties once. Something to do with her two hundred plus year old metabolism and the state of contemporary alcohol. She may have only had one or two glasses to get to this state.

He grumbled in assent and pulled one of her arms over his shoulders and put his free hand around her waist to all but carry her to her room. She had been given one of the private Staterooms because she was a big wig. He propped her up against the wall and opened her door for her, before shoving her inside and shutting it behind her. He walked back up the corridor quickly.

MacCready had also said she became very affectionate when she was drunk, had a made a pass at the man who eventually became her lover, the one that looked like the Courier. Boone was not the type of guy that could shrug that sort of thing off. If she'd kissed him, he would not have had the willpower to stop anything that might happen as a result. Especially with that woman… in that dress.

Best not get into that kind of position at all. He sighed and walked to his bed in the barracks. Why was he such a damned gentleman?


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18 – Courier Concerns**

The mess was empty when the Courier came looking for Max. She was sitting alone at a table with her face pressed against it's cool surface. She looked up as he approached, her eyes bloodshot and her face pale. She grimaced and lay her head back down again.

"What?" She asked, her voice flat and muffled by her lips being smooshed up against the table top.

Courier chuckled at her discomfort and sat down opposite her. Maxs hand fumbled about on the table before it found a fork, which she tossed half heartedly in his general direction without looking up. It clattered past him harmlessly and skittered across the floor.

"King Arthur made a proclamation this morning." Courier informed her. "We leave tomorrow for Bunker Epsilon. He wanted to go today but you were indisposed."

"I'm still indisposed." She muttered. "What the hell is wrong with the booze these days? I had two glasses of wine… with dinner. I remember leaving the Elders Quarters. As soon as the air in the corridor hit me…Blammo. I have no idea how I found my way back to my room."

"Boone." Courier said shortly, she looked up at him. "Boone got you to your room."

She lay her forehead back on the table with a light thud. "How embarrassing."

"You're lucky it was him." Courier said with a grin, "Anyone else might have taken advantage of your inebriated state."

"I'll give him a medal later." She grumbled.

"There's some power armour around here that has a blood cleansing feature or something." Courier supplied helpfully. "Will take care of that hangover. Might improve your attitude too. When you're done though, I want to talk to you about something."

He patted her on the shoulder and stood up from his seat.

"Power Armour Bay is the left before the exit, topside.' He smiled down at her head. "Need help getting there?"

He heard a mumbled response… sounded a lot like 'fuck you' but he wasn't sure.

"Just come find me when you're done."

When she managed to scrape her head off the table top again, he was gone.

Max dragged her sorry carcass out of her seat and slunk towards the Power Armour Bay.

* * *

It was less than an hour later that Max found the Courier again. He had sequestered himself in the repository, the collection of Brotherhood knowledge and history. He was reading from a terminal when she poked her head in the doorway and seeing him there she strolled over and took a seat opposite him.

"Feeling better?" He asked, not looking up.

"Much." She replied, "Thanks for the intel on that suit. I'm going to add the feature to one of my suits when I get home."

He finally looked up at her and she was struck, not for the first time, by his appearance. Those warm chocolate coloured eyes, the thick ebony hair, the two men even wore their facial hair the same way. The only thing that separated the two were their scars and the way the Couriers eyes crinkled in the corners. Max looked at the scar on the Couriers temple. She had meant to ask him about it for some time. It looked like he had taken two to the head... but as he was sitting across from her right now… alive, that can't have been the case.

He noted the direction of her stare. "I was shot in the head." He said bluntly. "two 9mm rounds right to the temple and then as a bonus they tried to bury me."

"How'd that work out for them, then?" She asked.

"Well, let's just say he wasn't entirely happy with the outcome." He replied, with a quick smile that implied that a great, violent act had been committed in retribution.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" She asked getting to the point.

"Couple of things actually. But I'll start with the most pressing." Courier leaned forwards and put his elbows on the desktop, "I don't like Elder Maxson. The only reason Boone and I are here, is because of you. I want you to know that, because if it comes down to stepping in front of a bullet for him like you did… I won't."

"I understand… Arthur is my friend…." She started to say but the courier interrupted her.

"You keep telling yourself that, if it gives you comfort." He said looking into her eyes. "He ain't your friend and he doesn't want to _be_ your _friend_ , but that's between the two of you. I just wanted you to know, the only reason we're sticking around is for you. We're not part of his entourage."

He dismissed that topic and moved onto the next quickly. "Boone picked up the rifle that was used to aerate your gullet. He's fixed it up nice for you and wanted to give it to you, but he's… reserved." He gave a half smile, "I put it in your room while you were detoxing. I wanted to tell you that Boone is responsible for it, not Elder Maxson, as I'm sure he'll want you to believe."

Maxs eyes lit up and she gave an odd little squeak of excitement.

"Don't get too excited… it ain't as fancy as that beast you're used to. In fact, you could say it's old school." He grinned. "Boone says it shoots well and there were plenty of bits and pieces around here so he modded it to suit your shooting style… or so he says."

She began to wiggle about in her seat, wanting to go and see her new rifle. She had felt vulnerable without it, despite the presence of her shotgun and pistol. She was a sniper and a sniper without a rifle was as useless as tits on a bull.

"I ain't done, so calm your nerves." Courier said, amused by her excitement. He suddenly turned serious. "I've been catching up on my Brotherhood particulars." He gave a vague kind of gesture to the terminals and books around him. "This lot, the Midwest Chapter, are not like the rest and when we get to Epsilon, your 'friend' might not be a happy lad. I know that the Brotherhood in the East and West both stick to a strict set of doctrinal rules… set out from its inception when the bombs fell. The Midwest have shed some of those rules. One being that they have ghouls in their ranks and they used to have supermutants as well, but they have long since died. Epsilon has a big ghoul population, they scout the old nuke sites and such."

"Ahhh… yeah. I can see how that would be a problem. She mused. She hoped that Zac was right when he'd said that Arthur was more progressive than he made out to be. He'd had Hancock visit the Prydwen once. It may have just been to win her favour, she wasn't sure. "I'll talk to him."

Courier nodded. "Might be best, you seem to have more sway with him than anyone else… except Hobson. OK, two more things. It might be a bit late in the game to be asking this and it ain't really my business but what is this trip about? 'Cause I'm getting the distinct feeling that there's more happening than I first thought."

She cocked her head curiously, waiting for him to continue. He didn't, he looked steadily at her for an explanation instead.

"Arthur hasn't been forthcoming, the message made no sense to me and I have never heard of Elder McNamara. I've only been out in the world for two years so I doubt anyone really knows who I am, but you know this." She shook her head. "You're not alone in the sentiment, there is something going on. I think Maxson is hoping to unite the Brotherhood and become the High Elder. I think that's the endgame. But the message to me is still a mystery."

"And you just set off across country?... no question." The courier asked a little incredulously.

"Pot. Kettle. Black, Mr Six." She said with a smile.

"I'm a courier," He pointed out with a raised eyebrow. "It's my _job_ to set off across country, no question."

"I'm going to the source. I'm impulsive and I like to be boots on the ground… If something is happening in the west, I want to be there for it, even if it's to my detriment. Might not be the smartest thing in the world to do." She shrugged. "I'm also a trusting and slightly unstable soul and I have trouble saying no sometimes." She added with a grimace, "I hope…" She didn't finish the thought.

The Courier looked hard at her for a long time, his eyes taking in every little detail of her manner and expression. She was up to something too. She was smarter than she was letting on, she might not know exactly what was going on but she would find out and if it wasn't to her liking, he had a feeling that the Brotherhood of Steel would pay for it. He would keep his eyes open and he knew that Boone would do the same. There was one thing to be said for his friend, Boone was so quiet that most of the time people forgot that he was around. Most people that is.

Max saw everything that was going on around her. He had a feeling that Hobson did too. The three of them; The Courier, The Lone Wanderer and the Sole Survivor had a likeness about them that was uncanny at times. None of them could be underestimated.

Max shook her head to clear it. "You had another thing to talk about." She said.

"Yeah." He said, leaning back in his chair and looking at her appraisingly. "This one is kind of personal and I shouldn't really say anything, but I'm gonna."

Max suddenly felt like she was sitting in the principals office, about to be chastised for some wrong doing.

"I ain't normally one to meddle on others affairs." He outright lied to her and she knew it, as he was very much one to meddle in others affairs when it suited him. "But Boone is my best friend. He's been my constant companion for more than eight years. He's a tough sonofabitch, saved my hide countless times but he's also vulnerable."

"You are easily the most… exquisite woman… that either of us have ever seen. And I'll hand on heart tell you, I've seen a fair share of women." He gave a self depreciating smile. The corners of eyes crinkling in a devilish fashion. "Boone…"

She stopped him by raising her finger in the air. "He's quit smoking. He let me carry his rifle and wear his beret… briefly." She smiled, recalling him begrudgingly handing it over after the quickdraw competition between the three of them at Dry Rock Gulch. "I can feel him watching me."

"Yeah." Courier nodded. "I can't see him hurt, not after everything he's been through. I was interested in you myself, though not for anything long term, mind." He grinned at her lasciviously and she laughed. He turned serious again. "This is more important to me than anything else that's going on. He's like my brother. If you're interested… you'll need to make the first move and carefully. If you ain't, make it clear and gentle."

"You've got an army of folks about ready to stand in line for you. Maxson thinks you're already his. Dekker, well, he's about to make a play as well and before this is over, there'll be even more. Boone ain't looked twice at anyone in all the time I've known him. It's a big thing for him to be looking at you. I want you to appreciate that is all. I ain't about to sell him to you or anything, you can make you own mind up." The Courier placed his feet up on the desk one at a time and crossed them at the ankles.

"Just a bit of cautionary advertising, then?" She nodded and stood up knowing that the conversation was over and looked down at the Courier. "Thank you, you've given me a bit to think about. I'm going to see my new gun."

He nodded and sunk down into the chair some more and reached for his hat as Max started for the door. He settled his hat over his eyes but wasn't surprised when she was by the side of his chair in the next moment, lifting it off. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the forehead before putting the hat back down over his face again.

"Oh, Hi Arthur." He heard her say as she left the room. Courier gave a quick smile under his hat. King Arthur had seen her kiss him. The look on his face must be priceless, shame he couldn't see it.

* * *

Boone had approached the Paladin in the first day they had arrived at Bunker Beta and offered to help with the watch. He had actually sought her out minutes after seeing Max into the bunker and to her stint in the Autodoc. The female Paladin had looked at him funny, but had inserted him into the roster anyway, he had climbed up to the tower gratefully and settled in for the long hours of quiet and introspection.

They would be leaving the bunker tomorrow. He would be happy when they were on the road again. Not too long after he'd met the Courier…. Well, not long after he'd gotten over his death wish anyway, he had discovered that he liked the road. He wasn't courier material himself, but he would have liked to officially have the job. The scenery was always changing and you got to see things that you normally wouldn't get to see. Going to the Commonwealth had been trying physically, but the reward was what was waiting at the end of the journey and the anticipation of the next.

He met the General in the Commonwealth. He liked that skin tight, slick black suit of hers… and that little silver dress she was wearing last night…

God Dammit! Stop thinking about her.

He grimaced and looked back out at the landscape around the bunker.

He heard footsteps climbing up to the tower and checked the pipboy he had been wearing since the wreck of the Prydwen. He'd wondered who would get Rhys' pipboy. Turned out, it was him, the Elder wanting each of the people who travelled with him to be outfitted as best as they could provide, given the circumstances.

It was too early for him to be relieved by the next shift. The steps were light and he felt his heartbeat pick up. It was her, he knew it. He could suddenly smell the wave of fragrance that came with her. She always smelled like sweet flowers. The trapdoor in the floor opened and she clambered out of it, looking at him with a wide breath taking smile and bright sparkly eyes.

"I love it." She burst out suddenly, her voice high pitched and excited and caught him up in a constricting hug. He stood there awkwardly, his arms held tightly to his sides and his eyes wide behind his aviators. My God, she smells good. He thought, feels even better.

He was thrown even further into a muddle of emotions when her lips pressed hard to his. If he could have formed a coherent thought in that moment things may have progressed to something else. But he couldn't think.

She released his suddenly and patted his shocked face affectionately.

"I'm going to go shoot something with her right now." She squeaked, before climbing back down through the trapdoor, slamming it behind her in her haste.

Boone was as still as a statue for an age, staring at the floor and still feeling the pressure and heat of her lips on his. He saw her hurry across the yard below. She met MacCready and Zac and took up the rifle he had fixed up for her. She looked back up at the tower and held it aloft for him to see and gave an enthusiastic thumbs up.

 **AN: Story will move along in the next Chapter...**


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Locations for the Midwestern Brotherhood sites are vague, so I have made them up. Sorry, if they don't mesh with anyones own ideas. I have tried to meld them with real world places (thanks Google). I would also like to reiterate that I don't know where this story is going and will take advice and suggestions. As for romantic interests, nothing is set in stone, but please don't be disappointed if it doesn't work out exactly the way you want it to go. I can't please everyone unless I write several different versions of the same story. Review or PM me if you have ideas. The Courier and the Lone Wanderer… are not on the table.**

 **Chapter 19 – Leavenworth**

Max had resolved to call her new rifle 'Nevasee' and she scratched the name into the stock. It was like The Last Things little sister. Smaller, simpler and a lot more elegant. Boone had done a good job in modding it, but Max still tinkered a little more to make it truly hers. She had slung the rifle over her shoulder that morning and given her shotgun to Cade.

Every one of Maxsons group now had the appropriate weapons for their skill set, they were finally decked out the way that they should have been from the beginning. Max had her suppressed .308 rifle and 10mm sidearm, because she was sneaky, Boone and MacCready both had the same, only not suppressed. Courier had his sequoia and lever action rifle, old school and intimidating. Zac had his automatic 5.56 rifle which he called the 'Perforator' and laser pistol sidearm… and the Thirst Zapper, which had no real purpose other than to keep him amused. Cade had Maxs 12 gauge shotgun, his aim was not the best and the shotgun offered a good midrange spread and his laser sidearm as well. Maxson had selected an automatic rifle like Zacs and had repaired his laser pistol after it's dunking in Lake Michigan. The bunkers Quartermaster was also generous in resupplying the group with backpacks and essentials for each of them. Cade had received some more appropriate armour and boots for walking, though they all knew that it would not be pleasant for him in the first few days as he broke them in. There would be blisters.

The group assembled on the tarmac outside the bunker and waited for the unofficial signal that they would be setting off. The trip to Bunker Epsilon, a site just south of what had been Scott City in Kansas, would take two days given the vertibirds range but would also shave more than seven hundred miles off their trip. Meeting the Midwestern Brotherhood had been a blessing for their feet. They would be overnighting in Fort Leavenworth, north of the crater that was once Kansas City. It was a newly acquired Brotherhood site, liberated from a group of raiders who had kept the Brotherhood at bay for a long time with the use of the old army bases arsenal. It was the visit to the fort that justified Elder Dekkers presence in the group. He was going to inspect the progress of the newest site and act as escort for his guests. Though, he was unwelcome by some.

MacCready and Zac got on with the towering Elder like a house on fire. He was quick witted and responded to their jibes with good humour and sardonic retorts. Cade was more than a little in awe of the man. Cade stood at Maxs height and the seven foot Elder made him feel tiny. The Courier and Boone didn't really care, the bigger they were, the bigger the crater they made when they hit the ground, though they grudgingly admitted that they wouldn't really want to meet him in a dark alley.

Elder Maxson watched as Dekker laughed heartily at something that Max was saying to him. She was smiling up at the man in a fashion that Maxson found unsatisfactory. While he was grateful for the assistance in their time of need, he wanted away from this place and the Elder as soon as possible. He had no doubt that in the future Dekker would come in handy to his ultimate cause, but for now he could go to hell and keep the fuck away from his intended.

A lancer approached his Elder and advised that the Preflight checks had been completed and that they were ready to depart. Dekker assembled his squad and invited Maxson to take the first seat on the waiting vertibird. Maxson held out his hand to Max instead and lead her to the bird, helping her up into the interior and following, took the seat next to her. She gave him an amused smile and leaned in close to his ear.

"Calm down, Arthur. I'm not interested in Dekker." She whispered. "Not in that way, anyway."

He cleared his throat and sent her a mildly apologetic look and watched the rest of the two teams board the three vertibirds waiting to depart.

"I want to talk to you when we get to Leavenworth," Max whispered. "A proper, serious discussion. We haven't had time, but we need to make time."

Maxson nodded, they really did need to talk.

Dekker settled in across from them and patted the shoulder of the lancer to let him know they were good to go. Zac, MacCready and Cade were on the same bird with them, Courier and Boone were on the next with three of Dekkers squad and the third Vertibird held the remaining members of the Midwestern team.

At first, the flight was interesting but after the same bleak landscape drifted under them for a few hours, Max found herself drifting off to sleep. She woke with a start, her head jolting off Maxsons shoulder where it had been resting and she looked around. She ran her hands over her face noting that the Vertibird was descending inside the walls of Fort Leavenworth and it was early evening… Well shit, she'd slept the whole day away.

She hoped that she hadn't spent the whole time with her mouth open or snoring like a Deathclaws roar or drooling everywhere. She felt Maxsons arm around her, his hand resting on her opposite hip, her helmet was sitting at her feet instead of on her head where it had started out. She picked it up and put it back on her head, clipping it under her chin and cast a sidelong glance at her pillow. Maxson was not looking at her… he was talking to Cade across from him, though his hand remained glued to her. Zac was looking at her from the other side of the cabin, a small smile playing about his lips. He gave her a quick wink.

The Vertibirds touched down one at a time in formation in what would have been the vast parade ground and there was a troop of Brotherhood soldiers waiting in tidy lines in the periphery of the area. As Elder Dekker alighted, the soldiers all jumped to attention and slammed their fists into their chests in salute. Cade and Zac climbed down followed by Maxson who handed Max down with a smile.

Elder Dekker turned to Maxson and Max.

"Elder Maxson, General Everton." He began formally, his deep voice full of pride. "Welcome to Fort Leavenworth. Would you do us the honour of inspecting our troops?"

Max surveyed the group of soldiers at attention beyond and saw a few of the ghouls that the Courier had mentioned, they were not all at Epsilon, it seemed. She hadn't had a chance to talk to Maxson. She needed to say something now.

"I hate to keep your people waiting, Byron but I need just a moment with Arthur." She said. "If I may?"

"Of course, General." He gave a dimpled smile and indicated that they should proceed.

Max lead Maxson over away from the troops and turned to face him as the noise of the birds decreased enough for her to talk without shouting. He looked curious.

"What's this about, then?" He asked.

"I was going to talk to you about this later tonight but it looks like I have to move up the timeline a little." She said bracing herself for a battle. "The Midwest chapter has ghouls in their ranks, you are about to inspect a few of them on parade."

"How can he…?" Maxson began to fume but he stopped himself, showing uncharacteristic restraint. "You found this out when?"

"Yesterday." She advised him, "The Courier found some information in their repository. Arthur, some of these ghouls have been with the Brotherhood for a hundred years. Loyal soldiers."

"I see." Maxson said.

"What's going on in your head right now?" She asked cautiously.

"Elder Dekker is our host." He said, "I'm not about to embarrass him after all of his help. I will behave myself."

"Good." She sighed in relief. "We need to inspect some troops then." She smiled at him and turned to walk away but Maxson took hold of her arm, halting her.

"Was this what you were going to talk about tonight? Was that all or are we still talking?"

"No, that's not all and we are still talking tonight." She replied.

He let go of her arm and offered her his. She looped her hand through it and they walked back to the straight rows of Brotherhood soldiers. Maxsons first test came right off the mark as he was introduced to the Midwestern chapters Sentinel, one Juliet Rutherford, a two hundred and thirty five year old ghoul and Dekkers right hand.

Coincidentally, Sentinel Rutherford had been stationed at Leavenworth when the bombs fell and the push to retake it had been entirely her doing. She was fiercely loyal to the Dekker name for her entire length of service, Dekkers own great grandfather had welcomed her into the Brotherhoods ranks and essentially saved her life. She had been Byron Dekkers mentor and friend for his entire life. She had been elevated to sentinel the day he was elevated to Elder.

Maxson saluted the lady after hearing her story and inclined his head to honour her service to the Brotherhood. She beamed at him in pride and lead him along the rows of soldiers introducing a few as she went. Dekker followed behind with Max at his side, talking to some of the assemblage himself. Max could see that he was well respected by these men, more than respected, they would all gladly lay down their lives for him. He inspired more loyalty from these men and women than even Arthur Maxson and his legacy.

Max was impressed with them and she had the feeling that the discipline that they exhibited was down to the Sentinel. It was all very old world, the way they presented themselves. Max remembered standing to attention for hours on end in a similar parade ground. The same way that these people were. It was US Military to a tee and only a soldier from the time would recognise it as such.

It didn't take too long to inspect Dekkers soldiers. Soon the brothers and sisters were dismissed by the Sentinel and row by row they marched off the parade ground and back to their duties. Max motioned to the rest of the team who had hung back from them, waiting for them to finish whatever it was that they seemed to be doing. Courier had parked himself on the ground, his duster balled up behind his head and he seemed to be asleep. Boone was nowhere to be seen, had probably found a guard tower and was looking for something to shoot at. Zac and MacCready seemed engaged in a vigorous thumb war. Cade was standing at ease nearby, respectful as always.

They were hardly an organised unit, they slowly assembled themselves and came to Maxs side.

"We eating now?" Courier grumbled. To be fair, it had been a while since the dry rations that they'd had inflight. Max had slept through that and was feeling the rumbles of an empty tummy.

"Hope so." She said, with a grin, "Where's Boone?"

Courier tuned in his pipboy and shouted into it. "Boone… chow time."

There was a grunted response that sounded affirmative. Courier looked back at Max. "I'll wait for him and bring him in, you guys go ahead."

Max nodded. "Remind me to check the range on the pipboys. Should have checked on it sooner…" She mused.

Courier sat himself back on the cracked asphalt to wait for Boone and the rest of them followed Dekker to the mess.

Dinner was an unidentifiable meat. Max didn't care to enquire after its origins. She found herself sitting with Sentinel Rutherford and was enjoying the conversation immensely. Juliet was, after all, one of her peers, they served at the same time in the pre war unrest, though in different capacities.

Dinner was over and they were escorted to their quarters for the evening. Dekker paused as he came to Maxs private room in the barracks, she was the last to be shown to her chamber.

"Can I interest you in a nightcap, Max?" Dekker asked as he opened her door.

Max laughed. "Oh no, I am not touching a drink until the memory of the last one wears off. Besides, I need to talk to Arthur, so I will have to decline on this occasion." She gave him a coy smile of apology.

"A rain check then." He said, obviously disappointed, "but I will hold you to it."

"Do that." She smiled.

He nodded to her by way of good night and left her at her door. Max walked into her room and looked around before taking off her armour and helmet, laying her rifle on the bed and taking off her backpack and heavy, pocketed belt. Then she went out and backtracked her way to Arthurs quarters and the talk that needed to happen. He opened his door promptly at her knock and stood aside for her to enter.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 – Delayed Departure**

Max sat on the steps outside her assigned barracks. It was late and she was wide awake. It seemed that sleeping the entire day away on the Vertibird was not a good idea and she foresaw in the day ahead, that it would most likely be repeated again and it would be beyond her control.

She was also slightly dissatisfied with how she had left things with Maxson. She had wanted to reiterate to him that they were partners, allies and friends, not a couple. He reiterated to her that he knew that she didn't love him back yet but he would wait for her to see that he was the man that she needed. She reminded him that she was ten years his senior and that he needed someone his own age. He reminded her that he didn't care how old she was. She pointed out that she was not Brotherhood and that she was unlikely to ever adopt his ideals. He pointed out that he had already bucked tradition for her and was likely to do so again in the future.

She regretted a few things about her dealings with him over the last few months. She had manipulated him into staying in his sickbed after he had been shot, using kisses as an inducement to keep him there. While the tactic had worked, it had fuelled his want of her. She had flirted with him after she had returned from Dry Rock Gulch… true she had been fortified by the alcoholic Nuka Cola, the Nuka Bombdrop, but it was no excuse. She was glad that she had been injured that day and the flirtation had not advanced into anything else. She really needed to keep away from the booze. She remembered the night that she had slept with him, she had downed two fingers of whiskey, cutting her inhibitions in half. She wondered if she hadn't taken his drink if they would have ended up in the sack at all.

All of it combined strung him along. She liked him, she really did. He was a strong leader, charismatic and controlled. He believed in his cause and cared about his people. He was young, virile and handsome. But he was too serious, too ridged, too jealous and too possessive. And the Brotherhood of Steel would always be his number one priority. Maybe she was selfish, but her man needed to _need_ her.

She sighed to herself and watched some movement across the parade ground condense into the figure of Boone, no doubt coming back from guard duty. She smiled and sunk back into the shadow of the building, she didn't think that he had seen her though she would not be surprised if he had. He had superhuman eyesight, which made him an outstanding spotter as well as a great sniper. He wasn't wearing his aviators; they were clipped onto the front of his top. He didn't have the glasses off very often, she remembered in the first moments that she had met him noticing that he had light green eyes.

She watched him as he walked across the parade ground. He was such a soldier she thought with a smile. The Couriers words came back to her. Boone hadn't looked at a woman in all the time the Courier had known him. They had been friends for more than eight years. That he didn't want to see him hurt after everything that he'd been through. Max wanted to know what he'd been through…. What made him into the grim faced soul that he was?

Mas began to wonder if she had a 'type', She seemed to gravitate towards soldiers… damaged ones, if her past record was anything to go by. She wondered further, if Arthur Maxson was damaged in any way. She decided to push the thought from her mind. She had told Maxson that she was not looking to progress any type of romantic relationship with anyone for the duration of their journey. She would keep to that.

She continued to watch Boone as he walked on. He turned his head suddenly and nodded towards her. He had seen her. Old eagle eye.

* * *

Max got about two hours sleep in the end. She was up early, dressed and packed, not exactly bright eyed and bushy tailed, but not a zombie either. She needed coffee before someone spoke to her and she bit their heads off by accident. She made a beeline for the mess ignoring the Brotherhood soldiers that snapped to attention as she passed. She was met at the coffee station by Elder Dekker. He started to greet her with that massive deep voice of his, but she reached up and put her hand over his mouth and gave him a warning glare. He looked startled but held his tongue for the duration. She filled her coffee cup and took a few scorching gulps, closed her eyes for a moment in a zen like trance, before looking back up at him with a smile.

"I don't really do mornings." She said by way of explanation.

She was treated to one of his dimpled grins and he offered her his arm to lead her to a table. She accepted and let herself be directed to an empty spot. Maxson, Cade and Zac entered as Dekker was holding out her chair for her to sit. Maxson saw her, his eyes darting to the immense Elder and then back to her. He did not storm over. He did not storm out, he nodded in her direction and took a seat on the other side of the mess. She was grateful he had taken her warning about not acting like a douchebag to heart.

"Max," Dekker settled himself into his chair and leaned towards her. "I was wondering if I could bend your ear for a moment." He asked.

Max looked over at him, sipping her coffee and adopting an attentive look.

He smiled… those dimples really were killers, she thought.

"I may be making a trip into the west myself in a short while." He told her in an offhand kind of way, pushing food around his plate half heartedly. "I will probably see you. Would you be averse to the idea of spending some time with me… when we meet again."

Max was surprised that she didn't choke on her coffee. She swallowed her mouthful and regarded the Elder in astonishment. He picked up on her vibe and looked slightly abashed.

She chuckled. For someone so large and commanding, he was absolutely adorable.

"I would not be totally against the idea, though I'm not sure it will go anywhere, Byron." She said with a smile. She seemed to be quite the hot commodity, was it bad to keep her options open or was she playing the tease. Byron Dekker was a leader, a soldier and a gentleman. He was distinctive, if not handsome. Except when he smiled, those dimples could set even the hardest of hearts to fluttering. "I don't want to make you any promises, or lead you on but we can certainly see… when we meet again."

He beamed at her across the table "It's better than a no." He rumbled in good spirits.

She grinned at him. "I wouldn't get your hopes up too high. I was shot in the throat not a few days ago. I might not live to make it to my meeting with Elder McNamara yet."

"Elder McNamara?" Dekker questioned with a slight frown. "From the Mojave Chapter? Why do you need to see him?"

"He's the reason I'm out here. He sent me a message by Courier." She replied, she wasn't certain that she liked Dekkers reaction.

"What was the message?' He demanded, before dampening down the flare of temper and adjusting his tone to add. "If I may ask, of course."

Max hesitated before repeating the message again. Dekkers head snapped up and he turned a heated glare towards Maxson on the other side of the mess.

"What does it mean?" Max asked warily. This obviously meant something to Brotherhood Elders, if not to her.

"He hasn't told you…" It wasn't a question. Dekker stood up suddenly and walked away from the table. Max watched as he strode through the mess, soldiers melting out of his path as he advanced on Maxson.

"A word, Elder." He said severely, voice loud enough to carry back to Max on the other side of the room. Not hard considering the room had gone dead silent and every eye had turned towards them. Max got to her feet and started across the room herself but found her way barred by the Courier who had just entered from the parade ground.

"What's going on?" Courier asked, it wasn't hard to pick up on the tension that had just flooded into the room.

"I don't …." She started but stopped again as she watched Maxson stand and follow Dekker from the mess hall. "I told Dekker the message and he went all… that."

Courier followed her eye line and frowned as he watched the retreating backs of the Elders, "What does that damned message mean?" He glanced at Boone who had appeared at his shoulder.

Boone shrugged and watched Maxs concerned face.

"Remind me, when we get back home to have a chat to McNamara… I'm not sure I like where this delivery has taken us." Courier said.

Boone nodded.

"Anyway, looks like they'll be talking for a while, do we have an estimated time of departure or what?" Courier asked Max.

She was staring at the door that the Elders had left through, now seriously worried about what she had gotten herself into. She looked over at Cade and Zac who were still sitting at their table. Zac looked over at her questioningly and she beckoned him to join them. Zac said something to Cade who looked over at her with a nod. They both stood and came over. The only person missing was MacCready and he appeared in the doorway a moment later, looking around urgently. He hurried over when he spotted them. They group had drawn the attention of the whole Mess hall what with the hasty departure of the Elders, the tension and now the group seeming to huddle together near the door, so Max lead them all out of the Mess.

"I just saw Elder Dekker talking quite forcefully with Maxson," MacCready advised them as they assembled in a circle outside on the parade ground. "They did not look like they were best friends anymore. What happened?"

Max turned to Zac. "OK Sentinel Hobson, do you know what the message means?" She asked, surely he must know, he was Maxsons best friend and second in command and advisor… that's what a Sentinel was right?

"No." Zac protested. "I haven't been Sentinel in years, I retired from the Brotherhood before Arthur left for the Commonwealth. I don't even know what message you mean."

"I mean the message that bought on this trip to begin with... the one that McNamara sent to me via the Courier."

He looked genuinely confused, so did Cade, the only other Brotherhood source that she had.

"OK so, why did you come with us?" Max asked.

"Arthur asked me if I wanted to come… that's it. What message?"

"Who knows, maybe someone will find it someday." Max said, repeating the message as the Courier had told it to her, inflection and all.

"That's the last line from Roger Maxsons diary" Cade spoke up and all eyes turned to him.

"Roger Maxsons diary?… Do you know why it caused all of this?" Max asked.

"Isn't it a little late to be asking that?" Zac queried.

"That's what I said." Courier agreed with a humpf.

Max gave them both a hard stare. "Yes, I am aware it was impulsive, but rubbing my nose in it now isn't really helping, is it."

Cade frowned. "I don't know why it would cause all of this… unless it was a code between the Elders. The diaries are logged in every Brotherhood terminal in the country, it's part of our history. I don't know if it would help but it was recorded on October Twenty Seventh, Twenty Seventy Seven. The whole page read 'We're leaving this godforsaken place today. I'm leading the exodus to the old government bunker at Lost Hills. I'm leaving this log behind to be buried when this place goes in the next exchange. Who know, maybe someone will find it someday.' Every brother and sister knows it." Cade said.

"I didn't." Zac grumbled to no one in particular.

"If it's a code for the Elders, why did McNamara send it to me?" Max asked.

"I don't know why he sent it to you." Maxson said from behind her. "I can't explain what it means, not yet. But I promise that I will, when I am able."

Max turned on him and stared hard at his face. He looked older than he was, he looked strained. Not far away Elder Dekker stood glowering at him, all kinds of animosity pouring off the huge man.

Max suddenly felt sorry for Elder Maxson.


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: I'm not totally happy with this chapter, but my Husband approved. I may rewrite when he's not looking.**

 **Chapter 21 – Epsilon**

"Jesus Christ, Arthur. You're making it really hard to be on your side." Zac shook his head in dismay at his young friend. His blue eyes hard and his expression frustrated.

The group had broken up to gather their things for departure. Zac followed Arthur back to his room and had demanded answers. Maxson told him what he could, it wasn't much but enough to make the Lone Wanderer wonder if he should have come on this trip at all. The Brotherhood of Steel had a way of making you regret helping them, siding with them, aligning with them, shit, even talking to them. Their traditions sometimes made you want to blow your own head off.

Maxson looked out of the window of his assigned room into the quad beyond. Zac was struck by how young his friend was and how much of a burden he as bearing.

"You can see why I couldn't say anything to her." He said with a pained expression before his eyes went distant and his tone became morose "She told me last night that she wasn't interested in any romantic entanglements with anyone for the duration of this journey."

Max came out of her dorm and Maxson watched her through the window. She threw her pack to the ground, followed by her helmet and then sat down next to them. She busied herself by feeding rounds into a magazine.

"This trip will be for nothing if when you get to where you're going, she turns around and shoots you in the eyeballs." Zac sighed and walked up beside Maxson and watched Max through the window as well. "I don't like it, Arthur, but I have your back, you know that." He put his hand on the young mans shoulder in reassurance. "I want to be with you when you talk to McNamara… Before Max does. Holy Shit, you had better talk to him before Max does."

Maxson nodded and watched as Boone and MacCready joined Max on the concrete and began to trade out ammo stores. They all had the same calibre weapons and could share.

"Will Dekker do something? He wasn't happy, I guess he knows more than I do…?" Zac asked.

"He knows, he won't do anything." Maxson sighed and turned from the window and looked to Zac with entreat in his eyes. "I have to do this. Our future depends on it."

Zac gave him a sympathetic smile. He didn't want to be in Maxsons shoes. He didn't know it all, but he got it. All he could do is look out for his friend.

* * *

It was another full day in the sky from Leavenworth to Epsilon. Max sat with Courier, Boone and MacCready on one side of the Bird, she sat as far from Maxson as she could, right against the open side of the vehicle. Risky considering her tendency to sleep. She could topple out at any time.

Maxson had had to fight down a surge of jealousy when he saw the Courier put his arm around her and lay her head against him when she eventually drifted off to sleep from boredom. She had been nestled up to him like that only the day before, the scent of flowers in her hair and the dark combination of leather, gunpowder and high risk that came from the rest of her.

Max had said a lot to him the night before. She'd said that she wouldn't pursue romance with anyone. Maxson looked around the tight cabin at his companions.

Zac; for all his swagger and tendency to flirt was deeply committed to his somewhat odd girlfriend Moira Brown. RJ MacCready was always making goo-goo eyes at the synth doctor, Curie. Cade, well, Cade was not interested in Max in the slightest and Boone was a follower. He was sullen and silent and no threat at all.

It was the Courier that posed the problem. Leaving aside his appearance, he was too perfect. Intelligent, though he hid it well. A warrior, Zac had been right when he's said the guy was scary good… at everything. He was relaxed and easy with the world and Max liked him. They got on well and she listened to him. His opinion mattered and now she was cuddled up to him.

Dekker wanted her too. Every man wanted her, but Elder Byron Dekker was another _prime_ contender. It was worrying. Max drew the attention of Alpha males, being an Alpha herself.

Maxson was roused from his revere when the Courier and Boone started talking softly to each other on the other side of the cabin, too quietly for him to hear. After a bit of toing and froing and a few harsh head shakes from Boone, they swapped places. Boone gently leaned Max into himself with a resigned look on his face and the Courier moving over, past MacCready to sit opposite Maxson.

He removed his sunglasses, slowly folding them up and putting them in the pocket of his vest and looked up at Maxson.

"When we land, Elder," He said his voice deep and compelling, "You, me and him…" He nodded towards Zac, who had stopped chatting to MacCready when the Courier had moved. "We're going to have a talk. If I don't like how the talk goes, me and Boone will be leaving you at Epsilon and, if I get my way, Max will be coming with us."

Not waiting for a response, he took his glasses out of his pocket again, slotted them back over his eyes, leaned back in his seat, hat tilted forward and went to sleep himself. Maxson exchanged a long look with Zac and sighed.

* * *

The Midwestern Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel covered immense territory; from the banks of Lake Michigan to the foothills of the Rockys. Bunker Epsilon was their last outpost, defending their western borders from the wilderness beyond. The vertibird sailed over Scott City and turned south and in the gathering twilight it descended into the walled settlement that wasn't a bunker at all. It looked more like an ordinary old farmstead.

Max woke up, once again, with a start as the Vertibird touched ground, jostling the inhabitants. She was confused as she raised her head from the warm firm chest that she was leaning against.

Leaning against, Ha! Draped all over, was more like.

The Courier had been sitting next to her… she was sure of it and now here was Boone, his arm slung over her shoulders, keeping her pulled in tight next to him, her arm resting across his waist.

She sat up and pulled away from him with an apologetic glance and set about gathering up her belongings. Courier was now on the other side of the cabin. She narrowed her eyes, she had really good memory for detail and the seating positions had changed. Maxson was still in his original seat on the far side now facing the Courier and he didn't look stoked about the prospect…. Hmmmm interesting.

Max put her helmet firmly on her head and wondered what had happened. No more sleeping for her, she kept missing things.

Courier and Maxson were first out, alighting on the side closest to the main building and the gathering of people that had assembled outside of it to meet them. They all disembarked quickly, Max was handed down by Boone and remained by his side and they moved forward to join the activity.

Maxson was being greeted by a ghoul in proctors garb, he seemed to be the commanding officer on site.

"Welcome Elder Maxson, to Bunker Epsilon." He said in his gravelly voice after saluting with gusto "I am Proctor Bishop." He was obviously overwhelmed to be in the presence of a Maxson. "We'd like to get you settled into your accommodation for the night, though it might not be as grand as what you are used to I'm sure, sir."

Maxson inclined his head to the ghoul, who stepped aside from the doorway of the farm house and held out his arm, silently imploring them all to enter.

The seven of them trooped inside and were taken aback by the interior. The house was a shell, a simple façade hiding a steel and concrete walled interior. Max understood right away. They were over an old nuclear missile silo.

She looked to the Proctor, "The missile isn't still here, right?" The rest of her group looked at her in surprise.

"No, ma'am," The proctor replied grimly. "It was fired in the war. The silo is under the barn."

She nodded and indicated that he should proceed. They were led to a simple open barracks on the second floor and they each were billeted a bunk.

"Have we displaced your people Proctor?" Max asked.

"No… this squad are on patrol and are not due back for a few days yet." His look encompassed them all "The evening meal is served until nine, the ablution compound is outside and I will brief you all on the logistics involved with a hike to Denver in the morning. Elder Dekker informed me to check over your supplies and bolster any supplies you may be lacking."

Maxson stepped forward and extended his hand to the ghoul, who looked taken back by the old fashioned gesture. He took the Elders hand with a look of awe on his ragged face.

"Thank you, Proctor." He said simply and released the ghoul who stammered his own thanks before backing out of the barracks.

The group deposited their stuff on their bunks and began rifling through them. All but Boone who just sat on his bunk and waited and the Courier who looked over at Maxson expectantly.

"Here?" He asked forcefully. "Or outside?"

Max looked over at them warily… that didn't sound good.

Maxson straightened and Zac went to his side. "Outside." He replied.

Courier nodded and strode from the room. Max started to move after him but Zac gave a warning shake of his head before following Courier out the door with Maxson ahead of him. Max gnawed on her lower lip for a moment. Nah, fuck them, she wasn't staying out of whatever this was. She started after them again but Boone grabbed her by the wrist.

"They're just talking." He said quietly.

She narrowed her eyes at him and he looked calmly back at her through his glasses. She was suddenly irritated by them and plucked them from his face, folding them in her free hand. He blinked back at the sudden light but continued to stare at her openly, unimpeded by the shades.

She sat down heavily on the bunk across from him. "I don't like being in the dark." She murmured, looking at his fingers still curled around her wrist. He released her when he saw the direction of her look but didn't say anything else. He just sat there.

Max handed him back his sunglasses, which he hung from the collar of his top.

MacCready got her attention and waved her over to where he and Cade we standing. She looked over at Boone one more time before she stood and moved towards them.

"Courier told Maxson that he might leave if this chat doesn't go well." RJ said quietly.

Max looked at him sharply. The group was falling apart because of secrets and distrust. This had to stop now. They couldn't continue on if they had this, whatever _this_ was, hanging over them. She had no interest in being meekly lead along. She could feel her temper rising. They were out there right now discussing her, she knew it, and behind her back too.

Max clenched her jaw and glared at the doorway waiting for them to return. She wanted to follow them and have it out with them but she didn't know where they had gone and didn't want to charge around the compound like a wounded bull, making a fool of herself in front of the Brotherhood soldiers.

She waited. She waited and began to pace. MacCready spotted the warning signs and backed away from her, taking Cade by the arm as he did so. She was working herself up into a rage, justified or not, someone was going to pay.

How dare they keep her out of this? She was the General, the message was for her. She wasn't some little girl needing the big strong men looking out for her, to keep her safe and shield her from whatever they deemed too challenging for her pretty little head. She could outshoot the Courier and outfight Maxson... Zac Hobson... Fuck Zac Hobson!

She heard the footsteps on the stairs leading to the barracks nearly a full hour after they had left… and by then she was in a towering fury. It honestly didn't matter who the person walking through the door was. Innocent bystander or otherwise.

It was the Courier.

He opened his mouth to speak to Boone across the room and received Maxs fist in his face. He was a tough guy but even tough guys can be taken by surprise and the sucker punch had a tonne of angry force behind it. He stumbled back into the hallway and collided with Zac who was just behind him and both of them fell onto the corridor floor leaving Maxson standing over them, blinking in surprise.

"Now, listen to me you motherfuckers and listen good." Max ground out furiously through clenched teeth. "I want to know what the fuck is going on right now. If I don't get a satisfactory answer, I will pick up my bag and walk my way back to the Commonwealth this instant." She sent a glare at them one at a time, Courier and Zac still on the floor and Maxson wishing he was anywhere else, he'd seen that look before. They were quiet too long.

"I said, NOW!" She roared.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22 – Into the Wilds**

Max was pretty angry…. She wasn't 'decimate entire legions of Coursers' angry… but she was 'punch a courier in the face' angry.

Cade had set the Couriers nose and administered a stimpak to heal it straight, and he'd had to check Zacs ankle as well, him having sprained it when the Courier had fallen on him.

Max had stormed off. Most worryingly, she had taken her pack and weapons with her. Maxson had gone after her, but had returned minutes later empty handed and with a despondent look on his face. MacCready and Boone sat together at the card table in the corner of the barracks. Boone had a small smirk on his face as he watched the Courier being ministered to. MacCready just looked concerned.

RJ was concerned that his friend had abandoned him in Kansas with this group of scoundrels. He decided to go and look for her himself. He was a fair tracker and he was pretty sure that if she were heading back to the Commonwealth, he could catch up by morning at least. He nonchalantly got up and walked over to his assigned bunk and picked up his rifle, the one that Max had modded for him an age ago after his own had jammed at the worst possible time and got him pinned by a group of ferals at Med-Tek.

He picked up his hat and pack and sidled out of the door when all of their attentions seemed occupied elsewhere. His departure didn't go unnoticed by any stretch of the imagination. Courier, Zac and Boone had all noted the mercs departure.

MacCready went for the obvious place first… the gate. Epsilon had two gates one to the north heading to Scott City and one to the southwest. The knights on duty at the north gate said the lady hadn't left… they also asked if she was single and if she liked a bit of rough. MacCready snorted and tried the other gate and became more worried than before when he got there. She'd gone.

RJ peered out into the darkness beyond the gate, the guards were watching him uncertainly wondering if he would venture out as well. The woman had completely ignored their warnings as she strode away, her face grim and dangerous. MacCready walked out of the gates and into the wilds.

He left his pipboy light off to begin with hoping that she might have hers on and he might catch a glimpse of it in the gloom. It was dark as the inside of a coalminers boot and MacCready was leaving the lights and security of the Brotherhood bunker behind. He was little on edge but he was also committed to finding Max. After a few hundred yards he stopped and checked his pipboy map, making sure he was still going in the right direction. He turned his pipboy light on and used it to see the hidden furrows and rocks that permeated the barren ground.

He was reminded suddenly of the time Max left after the Institute incident. He had tracked her for miles but had never found her. The Minutemen'd had to wait five months for her to come back on her own, she had proven that elusive. Considering her skills and beauty you'd think everyone would notice her as she passed, but she had her ways and means of going unnoticed.

MacCready suddenly remembered that the pipboys had two way radios now. They were supposed to test the range but hadn't gotten to it yet. He flipped to the radio and saw that Max seemed to be in range, the frequency labelled 'General Everton Pipboy'. He lifted his pipboys microphone closer to his mouth and called out.

"Max?" He jumped as his own voice sounded right behind him through a pipboys speaker. He spun around and there she was.

"Yes, RJ?' She spoke into her pipboy and listened as her voice reverberated through his speakers in response.

"For fu-, mercys sake, Max" He exhaled sharply. "I just aged ten years."

She smiled. "What are you doing out here?" She asked flicking off her pipboy.

"I'm following you… what does it look like?" He grated, flicking off his radio too. "I'm not staying there if you're not"

"You guys would have caught up with me in a day or so. Boone and the Courier can track anything." She said with a shrug and started walking west again, MacCready keeping step with her.

"So, we're not heading back to the Commonwealth then?" He asked, adjusting the straps on his pack and rifle to get them comfortable for a long walk.

"Nope." She said shortly. "I have an appointment in Las… New Vegas with Elder Nolan McNamara and I mean to keep it. The message might have been about this Brotherhood High Elder nonsense, but it doesn't explain why he sent it to me. I am neither Brotherhood nor Elder, he had to have known that I wouldn't know what the stupid message meant."

She walking in silence for a while.

"Why the hell didn't they just talk to me directly?… Why all this sneaking around, posturing at each other? Fucking men." She grumbled.

MacCready smiled to himself in the dark. "I'll try not to take that personally." He said.

"Sorry man, I don't mean you… you know that." She grimaced at the implied insult.

"They were all worried about offending you, or hurting your feelings or you actually getting hurt… I mean we've barely started and you've already been in a downed airship and been shot. They're all trying to protect you from something or other." MacCready tried to justify them. "They just don't know you very well, that's all. They think that they have to treat you like other ladies. Maxson should know better…"

"I also think Maxson is holding back…" She mused. "He has to go and become High Elder and unite the Brotherhood for the first time in… ages I guess. But why not just say that?"

Max suddenly drew her pistol and fired off three rounds into the dark. The pfft of the suppressor was accompanied by three dull thuds in the short distance. She put the weapon back in its holster and continued on like nothing had happened.

"…It's not like I'm interested in Brotherhood politics or anything… maybe he's like, sworn to secrecy or something… some kind of codex code of honour?"

"What was that?" MacCready asked.

"What was what?" Max questioned in return.

He nodded into the darkness, in the direction of her bullets.

"Ahh… radrats." Max replied, "The knight at the gate said they were a menace and nocturnal… double the fun."

"And how long were you planning on walking in the dark?" MacCready asked, peering hard into the night, he had never seen a radrat and he would be willing to bet that he probably wouldn't like them if he did.

"Bishop said that there are a couple of old houses out here. He marked one on my pipboy. If you're in, then we'll go there and you can have a nap and a snack and we'll head out before sunrise… We'll turn north west and we should hit the 287 that will take us north to Kit Carson. There's a trading station there apparently. The guys should catch up either late tomorrow or the next day, depending on how Cades feet handle those new boots of his."

"I think we can keep them at bay for longer than that… make them sweat a little." MacCready amended, "Let make this interesting… I bet you fifty caps that we can make it all the way to Kit Carson before they find us."

"That's almost a hundred and thirty miles, RJ" She pointed out. "I doubt I can outrun Courier and Boone for that long."

"Nah… I think we can do it. Wager?" RJ insisted.

"Fine, "She said with a laugh. "They're your caps."

* * *

RJ was determined to win that bet and he pushed them hard. Max was happy to follow his lead, it was actually fun, if not exhausting, they alternated between walking and jogging, not RJ's favourite pastime. He had scoffed when she told him that in her time, people jogged for recreation and sport.

'You should only ever run if there's something big 'n' hungry chasing you." He'd said in disgust, his ex smokers lungs protesting every time they stepped up the pace.

They made it to the crumbling 287 on the evening of the third day and they hadn't seen any sign of the group. They made camp in a tumbled down grain silo and Max took watch on the roof of their structure while MacCready bedded down inside.

She started fiddling around with her pipboy, checking off her supplies, checking their position in relation to where they were heading. She flicked to the radio and a smile split her face and she lifted her rifle. She put her eye to the scope and scanned the area around them focusing her sights on the south and east, they never did check the range on their radios. She checked the pipboy again, tuned to the new frequency and lifted the mic to her lips.

"How's your nose?"

There was no answer for a while, she must have either surprised him or he hadn't heard her.

"It was a solid hit." He conceded. His voice was faint and crackly over the radio, they must be at the outer limits of the radio range. "Are you still angry?"

"Depends." She replied wryly. "Are you still acting like a douche?"

"I'm sorry, Max." He said.

She smiled at her pipboy, noting that Craig Boones Frequency popped up on her screen as well, followed by Zac and Cade and finally Maxson. The gangs all here, she thought.

"Where abouts are you guys?" She asked.

"We're just walking into a town called Eads, 'bout twenty three miles south of Kit Carsons Trading Post on the 287." He replied.

Max switched off her pipboy and was about to shout down to MacCready when he walked out of the silo, both of their packs in his hands and his rifle over his shoulder.

"How far?" He asked.

"They're about ten miles south." She replied sliding off the side of the fallen silo. "and Kit Carson is about thirteen miles away."

"I want my fifty caps. We're running" He grinned, handing her her pack and crouching down to tighten his boot laces.

The two set off at a brisk and careful trot, the road was smoother than the unbeaten path they had been following but it was still cracked, rutted and brittle.

"I want to be sitting in the morning sun with my feet up enjoying a beer when they finally get there." MacCready puffed. "Oh man… why did I ever start smoking?"

* * *

Kit Carsons Trading Post was a medium sized wooden shack and a few outbuildings sitting in the former site of Kit Carson, Colorado. The proprietor was a man named Kit Carson, whether it was his real name or not was up for debate. He was a pretty average kind of guy, who had the means to surround himself with a bevy of heavily armed guards. His post was a busy site, there was nothing else in any direction for miles. Dog Town in the west and the Brotherhood territory in the east. It was like a little Oasis.

A couple came to the post at an ungodly hour of the morning, can't have been much past one in the morning, they'd travelled up the old 287 and rented a bed in the caravaneers barracks. Not many folk come up from the south so Kit was interested in hearing their story when they had rested up.

They were both up with the sun, dressed and packed and ready to go, but they lingered. The young fella buying himself a beer and the lady was persuaded to try a Sunset Sarsaparilla, shipped in special from New Vegas, rad free guaranteed. They also each chose a pair of sunglasses from his selection of four and then they took up seats on the porched outside and waited a spell. Kit kept an eye on them just in case they were up to something. But they seemed relaxed and easy going.

The lady was pretty and after she shed her jacket in the warmth of the morning sun, some of the guards were eyeing her with appreciation and some of their comments were a little on the pornographic side. Kit hoped that he wouldn't have to talk to them about how to behave in front of ladies.

It was mid morning when the guards hailed another group coming up from the south. The pair sitting outside Kits shop, gave each other wide grins and adopted overly relaxed poses as a group of five tired looking gents trooped up to the post. They stopped in front of the pair of travellers.

"What was the range of the radios?" The tallest feller asked gruffly.

The lady pulled her sunglasses to the end of her nose and looked at him over the rims " 'Bout ten miles in good conditions."

He grunted, before walking past them and going into the shop to get some rooms to rest up.

"You bastards cost me fifty caps." She called after him with a grin, before settling her eyes on another feller in a fancy coat. "Arthur."

"Max."

"Or should I be calling you High Elder Maxson?"

"Arthur's fine."

She was looking hard at him. "When we move out, we'll chat. I want to know what else you're up to… now that I've calmed down a bit."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23 – The Road to Dog Town**

They left Kit Carson at around eight the next morning. Kit had a map of the old United States on the wall and asked them to put a nail in each of their hometowns so he could show others how far his customers travelled to see him. Maxson, Cade, Zac & MacCready only needed one nail to go into Washington DC, Max put one in Boston, Courier put one in New Vegas, though that wasn't entirely accurate and Boone put one in California, just north of Los Angeles.

Courier questioned the man on the road ahead, trying ascertain the best route. The Brotherhood had thought it best to go straight into Denver. But the Courier wasn't sure. He remembered a few years back that someone had said that Denver was Legion. Boone had heard that there were NCR settlers there. Kit told them that it was all true, but that Denver was nicknamed Dog Town for a good reason and they should avoid it, for fear of huge packs of feral dogs, most of them rabid or carrying all manner of diseases.

It was decided that they should head that way, the pass on I70 was the best way over the mountains, further south and they ran the risk of running into more legion than was necessary. The Courier had passed further south on his way to the Commonwealth and it had been slow going, what with the terrain and trying to keep Boone on a tight leash, wanting to go to war with every Legion patrol that they had seen.

The group formed up and headed out of Kit Carsons Trading Post, heeding the warning of raiders on the roads ahead. MacCready took point and Boone took up the rear. Max walked with Courier.

"When you came back into the room… what were you going to say to Boone?" She asked after a few minutes of walking.

"You mean when you punched me in the face…?" He chuckled.

"Yes… when I punched you in the face, for talking about me behind my back and generally being cagey. And for the record, it could have just as easily been Zac or Arthur… Hell, even Proctor Bishop if he'd happened along at the wrong time"

Courier grinned. "I was going to tell him we were staying and I was hungry and that we should head to the mess."

Max looked at the back of Maxsons head walking ahead of them with Cade. Zac was behind them, humming to himself.

"Listen, Max, The Elders are bound by the Codex, the whole secrecy thing is dumb and not a big deal to all of us… but it is to them. The whole plan about manipulating you into marrying him is not really a threat to your safety… and I also don't think it was likely." He gave her a sidelong glance. "I was only going to leave if it was a threat to you."

"And it's all out in the open now." Zac said from behind them. "We're going to make Arthur High Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel, and he's going to make you fall in love with him and marry him to become his co-leader and we'll all live happily ever after" He went back to humming.

"I'm not going to make the mistake of keeping you in the dark again." Courier said by way of apology, and ending the conversation. They were both quiet again for a while before Courier spoke up again.

"You kissed Boone." He said quietly.

"I was excited about getting Nevasee, that's all. It wasn't a romantic overture." She replied as quietly as him. "I want to talk to Arthur." She said quickening her step to catch up to the Elder.

"Dylan? Do you mind if I have a quick word to the High Elder?" Max enquired pleasantly, Maxson sighed.

The Proctor nodded and dropped back to walk with the Courier.

"We figured the High Elder part by ourselves… so keeping it secret was a waste of time and fostered mistrust for no reason…. The whole marriage thing was a surprise though." She said.

"I'm not good at this type of thing Max." He muttered. "I made a mistake. Zac said so too. But you're the only thing that I've ever wanted that I couldn't have. Tell me what I need to do to."

"For one thing. You can stop thinking of me as a possession." She sighed. "You can't force someone to love you Arthur… and what made you think I even wanted to co-rule the Brotherhood anyway?"

He shrugged and kept his eyes forward.

"Let's just get there, make you the Boss and deal with everything else as it happens." She said, solemnly.

Maxson nodded. "I still don't know why McNamara sent the call to you." He said.

"Then we'll both ask him when we get there." She smiled. "we're still partners…"

Everything was alright again. The group walked on, keeping good pace and though Cades new boots were still chaffing him, he didn't complain.

Late in the morning, Max took over at point, MacCready dropped to the rear and Boone joined the pack, always keeping their snipers eyes fresh and minds sharp. The road was leading them northwest to join up with the I70 and would eventually turn due west to Denver. Max looked to the mountains looming ahead, the Rockys were intimidating and it was coming up winter…. She wasn't really dressed for snow… did it still snow? She hadn't seen snow at since she woke, thought it was prevalent enough in the Prewar times. The mountain ahead were dusted with white, could be permafrost?

The day passed quickly enough. Late in the afternoon Boone called the halt. The light was fading fast and they had been on the road for a good nine hours. While the rest of them set up camp in the ruins of a barn, Courier looked at Cades poor tattered feet. He cleaned them and washed the hot spots with Vodka to help harden the skin, much to the cringing Proctors chagrin, and instructions to wrap them tightly in the morning and an assurance that the worst was over and in a day or so they would be fine. Couriers medical knowledge was extensive and his expertise in walking long distances meant that no one questioned him. Poor Cade had endured the process for days already, the Courier insisting again that Stimpaks would only prolong the agony of breaking in the boots. The skin would heal just as soft and start the whole process again.

Courier then set the watch schedule and sent them all on their way. Zac rolled up for the night in his blanket and everyone woke when they needed to to stand their three hours. Max was woken by MacCready at three for the Predawn watch, and she found herself with Boone. She decided to try and engage the sniper in conversation.

It was hard work… most of her questions or statements were ignored or answered with grunts... it was like trying to talk to a sullen boar.

"You're not comfortable around me are you." She said, after a long period of silence. It wasn't a question, rather a statement of fact. As expected, he didn't reply, at least not right away.

"You don't walk like other people." Boone said after a long time, his voice soft, gravelly and deep. "You, sort of, glide? Like you're not touching the ground… It's weird."

Max quirked one corner of her lips into a half smile. "That was a compliment." She chuckled lightly.

He grimaced and focused his attention on the unfamiliar wastes stretching out in front of him. "Yeah."

"I recognised that." She mocked him kindly. She leaned in, her lips close to his ear. Her warm breath breezed its way over his lobe and it made his insides constrict. He suppressed a shudder. "Thank you." She whispered, before pulling away again and smiling softly.

* * *

The next morning, after MacCready had cooked a surprisingly good breakfast over their campfire. They set off again towards the I70.

It was just after noon when Max held up her fist and motioned everyone to a halt. MacCready in the pack and Boone at the rear dropped to their knees and lifted their rifles, the other four drew their weapon as one and took to a crouch, spacing themselves out along the road as they did so, facing out.

Max's soft voice came through all of their pipboys at once. "I've got movement ahead, on both sides of the road."

The snipers all trained their scopes on the road ahead, there looked to be about a dozen men and women hiding in the wreckage of a truck and trailer unit that was partially covered the 287. They had the look of raiders about them, their armour improvised and weapons a mishmash of creative modding. The area looked to be regular ambush site, no doubt for traders coming up from Kit Carson.

"Do we give them a chance to surrender?" Max asked.

Courier edged his way to her side and took her rifle, looking through the scope at the potential raiders ahead.

"We could go around." She said. "or we could see if they fire on us… or we could just take them out now and be done with it."

"They're raiders." He said. "and they've seen us, let's just take them out and be done with it."

Max took her rifle back and raised the scope to her eye. She heard Boone and MacCready come up beside her.

"I've got the guy with the red mohawk" she said.

"I've got the 'smiley face painted on his armour' guy." MacCready said.

"Yellow helmet." Boone grunted.

The trio fired as one and the three targets all fell simultaneously and their companions went into a flurry of disorganised activity.

Courier roared across the distance between the two groups. "Surrender or Die!"

Max had to roll her eyes at the theatrics of the whole thing but at least he was giving them a chance. Courier was rewarded for his consideration for their mortality with a poorly aimed .357 bullet whistling past him and embedding itself in the dirt.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." He shouted as he pulled his rifle off his back and lined up the sights. The three snipers fired again and three more raiders fell. The Courier took a shot and yet another dropped as the round found its mark. The rest of the raiders got a clue and ducked out of sight, not daring to let the sharp shooters get a bead on their precious heads.

"We can cover you from here, if you wanna get in closer." Max offered the Courier. He nodded and motioned Maxson and Zac forwards. "Cade stay here, keep watch on our six while we're taking pot shots at the kids." She said putting her eye to her scope again.

Everyone deployed as instructed. Courier, Maxson and Zac crept up along the side of the road, keeping low. The snipers swept the wreckage for signs of movement and occasionally firing off rounds to keep the raiders off the group sneaking towards them.

"Do we leave any alive?" Zac asked quietly as they moved forwards.

"Do you want to lug one of their carcasses around with us?" Courier asked.

"Or leave them to take out the next caravaneer that comes along." Maxson added.

"Just asking." Zac shrugged.

They made it to the cover of the other side of the wreck. Courier talked softly into his pipboy sending a quick message to their snipers.

"We're going in… don't shoot me." He warned them.

Maxson took the lead as they edged along the truck unit. As they rounded the corner Maxson raised his automatic rifle and stepped from cover, spraying the raiders with 5.56 rounds. Zac rounded the corner a second later taking a knee and sent out controlled bursts of rounds while the Courier stood tall, his lever action booming in his hands.

Under the hail of lead, the raiders didn't stand a chance, the last one fell with a groan as a .45-70 round bit deep into his cheek and splattered the trailer unit with his brains.

They checked the dead quickly and called the all clear to their people on the road. Max led the group forwards carefully, still scanning the sides of the road in case the raiders had thought to have scouts out. When they reached the wreck, Zac was patting down the bodies, looking for loose ammo and odds and ends. Maxson was sitting on a barrel with the Courier tending a bullet wound in his thigh. Being first out of cover was sometimes a bitch, he'd caught a slug.

"You got tweezers, Cade?" Courier asked as they reached them, "Gonna have to dig this out."

Cade knelt down next to him and rummaged through his pack.

MacCready and Boone climbed up on the wreckage to get a better view of the surrounding land and to keep watch while they patched up the Elder.

"We're not going to be able to move on 'til he can walk on that. Shall I scout out a bit and find a camp site?" Max suggested. "It doesn't look like these guys live here, they might have a camp nearby that we can appropriate for the night."

Courier looked up at her and nodded, "Not too far out though and take Zac with you. No running off alone again."

Zac came forward wearing a black open faced motorbike helmet and a pair of red rimmed sunglasses. "I'm taking these." he said.

Max walked around the site and found the trail that would lead them to the raiders camp and beckoned the Lone Wanderer to follow. The two of them set off to find a safe place to bed down while Maxson healed.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24 – The Continuing Road to Dog Town**

The raiders camp proved that they were, in fact, raiders preying on passing caravans. There were three raiders in camp and Max dispatched all three with the expedience of two head shots and a well placed .308 in the chest. Zac radioed back their position and they set about moving the bodies and scavenging what they could from the camp. It turned out to be a lot of stuff… more than they could ever carry. There was the remains of two caravans, stacked in crates and the well butchered carcass of a Brahmin, they didn't have to use any of their stores to feed themselves that night or in the morning.

The rest of the group arrived not long after. Courier was happy with the raiders inventory as it contained his precious and rare .45-70 ammo. He loved his distinctive weapons and would have hated to have to put them aside, he would have sooner used them as clubs rather than leave them behind.

Max got to sleep the night through and as a bonus, Cade was the cook in the morning and steak was on the menu. Max was very happy with the outcome especially when it surfaced that the raiders also had a supply of coffee. It was like the best day ever.

With the newly caffeinated General on point, they moved at a good clip and by early afternoon they made the I70 and met a caravan heading to Kit Carson. They exchanged information, Maxson bought some sunglasses for both he and Cade as they were now the only ones going without and as they were parting Max gave the caravaneer the coordinates for the raiders camp so that they could salvage everything that they had been forced to leave behind in the hopes that the goods would not go to waste.

Boone was on point for the rest of the day and called the halt late, they had not been able to find shelter and would have to sleep under the stars. They all moved far off the road and set up camp in a shallow decline and the lookouts took up watch on the slight rise.

* * *

Zac and Boone roused the camp just after midnight. They all rose with weapons in hand and bodies on high alert. Zac told them all they had caught sight of movement and heard the sound of dogs barking. He then corrected himself, they weren't dogs… it was people barking like dogs.

Boone was scanning the darkness, his scope to his eye and MacCready joined him. MacCready had a night vision recon scope on his rifle, thanks to Max. He lifted it to his eye and scanned around.

"Oh shhhhhh- " He breathed, as he circled around on the spot "We might be in trouble, we're surrounded."

"How many?" Courier asked, as the group had formed up, back to back facing out. "and how far out?

"They're about three hundred and fifty yards away and we're looking at around fifty on first glance… might not be able to see them all." Max said from behind him, her scope up as well. "Can't see many ranged weapons, almost no armour… looks like they're in… animal skins?"

Boone suddenly ground out a warning, "Rifle!" before jolting backwards at the echo of a gunshot. A round bit deep into his torso and he staggered and dropped to a knee. Cade was there to catch him and lower him to the ground.

With that, the group started firing.

Maxs rifle jumped in her hands, her fingers flicked with amazing speed on the bolt as she emptied her first magazine into the approaching hoard. She reloaded a second mag and sent those rounds out into the night as well.

MacCready took a knee in front of Cade and Boone, protecting them as Cade worked. Not every one of his shots were a killshot, but they all found a mark and slowed the advancing tide of tribals.

Maxson and Zac unleashed a barrage of automatic weapon fire, controlled bursts of slugs into the teeth of the enemy.

The Courier did not like it when people shot him or his friends, he took Boone going down as a personal insult. He took up his rifle and looked down the sights. He seemed to freeze in place for the barest second, picking out eight likely targets and spotting the places on them to do the most damage and then fired off eight rounds in quick succession each round finding it's mark.

"Cade, is he stable?" Courier shouted.

"For now." Cade replied crisply, firing off blazes of laser fire with effective results.

"Give me Boones rifle and I want you on reload." Courier said, as he emptied his sequoia into the host.

Cade nodded and complied. He reloaded the lever action as Courier took up the .308 and then feed ammo to the others as well, all the while firing off his laser pistol as he spotted potential targets.

"We're not doing enough damage," Zac called "Circles closing, we're gonna have to engage in close quarters."

Zac was empty and drew his sidearm, Maxson was the next to run out of 5.56 and reached for his laser pistol too. MacCready threw down his rifle next and drew his 10mm… When they had bought or scavenged for ammo they never thought they would have to face an army. Max and Courier were the next to run out. Cade handed Courier Boones 10mm sidearm and the group formed up to protect their fallen.

"I'm out." Max called, before, discarding her pistol charging out into the night, her combat knife in her hand.

The tribals had closed on them, now they had to fight hand to hand.

Zac and Maxson tossed their remaining energy cells to Cade so he could defend Boone and himself and leapt at the enemy. MacCready took hold of the hot barrel of his rifle and swung the gun like a baseball bat at the closest hostile, the heavy stock smashed into the side of the tribals jaw and sent a spray of blood and teeth into the air. Courier did not mess around when it came to close combat, every hit he landed caused blunt force trauma to his victims.

The tribals themselves were intimidating to look at up close. Their skin was dyed inky black and they had tattoos inscribed all over them. They all had long shaggy hair, held in check by a thick pomade of charcoal coloured clay, and their faces were painted in masks meant to portray dogs. Some of the scamps had even filed their teeth into points to make their faces even more canine in appearance.

Some of them had no armour at all, only loincloths made of fur and skins, others had mismatched pieces of salvaged armour. A combat chest piece and a leather thigh guard, a metal helmet and a set of shoulder pads that looking like they came from a football uniform. They carried Machetes for most part, though some had guns, like the one who'd had the rifle that had eliminated Boone from the fight. They carried a range of guns, which took various types of ammo and were in various states of disrepair.

They were all lean, some bordering on emaciated, though they were fast and agile and had some skill at hand to hand combat. What they had above all else, was numbers. There was just so many of them.

Max had seen fifty in her first cursory count, but their numbers were three times that, many of the tribals had been crawling on their bellies in the furrows and dips in the ground. The seven travellers were well and truly out numbered. Max cursed herself. Boone would have seen them all, she thought, as she darted stealthily amongst the hostiles, her knife gleaming wetly in the moonlight. She had made it through their line as was now working her way back to her group from the enemies rear, utilising her covert skills to drag the unsuspecting tribals backwards and to their deaths.

She could see Maxson, Zac and Courier, laying into them, she had to marvel how the three men worked together, their individual skills and strength working in a cohesive dance, a dance that left the foe broken and groaning in the blood soaked dirt.

She could see stray flashes of laser fire, Cade defending the fallen Boone and she could hear MacCready, though couldn't set eyes on him. She worked her way through the pack of enemies, tearing down one after the other, she didn't doubt their eventual victory until she heard the whistle of a blade cutting the air behind her and felt the razored edge of a machete cut into her side.

Proctor Cade had not been in a fire fight like this since he was a field scribe. Then he had been young and immortal. Now he was a little more grounded and very much aware of mortality. He hovered over Boone, trying to keep pressure on the seeping wound and alternatively, keep the dog like tribals from killing him and the rest of the group.

He was about to run out of energy cells and his hand to hand skills were sorely lacking… he had not even trained in years, on either the sparring mats on the Prydwen or in the Citadel before that. He still had one ballistic card to play. Maxs semi automatic shotgun was laying with his gear by his blanket, but he would have to abandon Boones side to get it.

He ducked low and darted the few yards to his bedroll and pulled the shotgun from the loop on his pack, he tipped up the pack and sourced the spare shells, as soon as he laid eye on them he stood up and rounded on his first enemy. He had never fired the 12gauge before and the first shot took him by surprise. It boomed in his hands and the weapon recoiled into his shoulder. It also left a dripping cavernous hole through the body of the tribal that had bore the impact of the shot. Cade blinked at the result and rounded on the next victim.

The man he confronted next was not like the other tribals. He was taller, more muscular and he wore a plumbed helmet reminiscent of a Roman Centurion. He was carrying a serrated machete and wore a mixture of good quality armour and a cape made of patchwork furs and skins fastened across his shoulders with a bronze pin that looked like a laurel wreath. The man drew back his lips to reveal a row of sharpened teeth and he emitted a low growl before lunging at the Proctor with his great blade.

Cade threw himself to one side landing on the ground and rolling onto his back. He bought the shotgun into line and fired off one shot and then two. BOOM, BOOM. The first shower of shot killed the tribal on his feet, the fancy helmet flying off into the darkness and clattering unseen onto the shadowed ground. In the shower of the second shot, the tribals head atomised from the top of his neck, sending a shower gore in all directions.

A great groan rose from the hostiles that remained as they realised that their leader had been slain. Some turned and ran immediately, others tried to fight on half heartedly, though the look of wild fervour and bloodlust in their eyes was gone and had been replaced by a look of hopelessness and fear. They soon broke off the fight and ran as well. The last few were too fully engaged in battle with Maxson, Zac and Courier… they could not flee, they had to stay and fight.

Soon, there were no sound in the camp except the moaning of the injured and dying and the heavy breathing of the exhausted team as the dispatched the few tribals who had been forced to remain in battle.

They were quiet for a long time, gasping for breath and contemplating what had just occurred.

It was Maxson who spoke up first.

"Are we all OK?" He puffed, looking around in the dim light, to account for all of the team. "Can we sound off?"

"Courier" came the first call,

"Zac"

"Cade and Boone" Cade said, kneeling back down beside the sniper.

And then there was silence.

"MacCready… Max?" Courier shouted, turning in a slow circle scanning the blackness for the two missing team members.

"I'm here." Max called back weakly, stumbling out of the gloom, her arm held tightly to her side, holding back a tide of wet blood from a deep cut.

"MacCready?" Courier amended his call for the former merc.

Max fell to her knees on the blankets in the camp site.

"RJ?" she called out, her voice raw and frightened for her friend.

Courier turned on his pipboy light, so did Zac and Maxson and they began to examine the area around them hoping to find an unconscious Minuteman Major lying nearby. They didn't find that. They didn't even find a dead one. MacCready was gone.

"They must have taken him." Zac said peering out at the darkened wastes.

"We won't be able to follow them in the dark." Courier rumbled, the impatience plain in his tone. "We'll wait for first light and chase the bastards down."

Zac nodded. "I'm coming too."

Maxson was over helping Cade minister to Boone and now Max.

"They fled to the Northwest following the road." He said, "We'll get these two back on their feet and get to the closest shelter in that direction."

"Let's see what weapons and ammo these boys have." Courier said, stooping to examine the closest body. He patted down the tribal and found an old policemans revolver. He grimaced at the peashooter, but guessed it was better than pointing at the enemy with his finger and making 'pewpew' sounds.

"There's the shotgun too." Cade said without looking up.

"Not leaving you guys unarmed." Courier declined, moving over to the next body as Zac did the same on the other side of the camp. They swept through the fallens belongings and they selected the best of what was on offer and what had the best supply of ammo.

At dawn, as the sun peaked up over the eastern horizon, The Courier and the Lone Wanderer headed northwest towards Dog Town in search of Major Robert Joseph MacCready.

 **AN: How's it going? Review!**

 **& Thanks so much to Paladin Bailey, Tuckerdoo  & Graysongirl13 for following me so far. You guys are great.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25 – The Hunt for Robert MacCready**

Max sat on the edge of their camp, staring off into the direction that Courier and Zac had gone. She was still weak from blood loss and the deep wound still hurt despite the stimpaks and time that had passed. The deepest hurt though, was the thought that RJ was gone and in peril.

She stood up and continued wearily on with her task. They were looting each of the bodies that lay scattered around the vast plain that they had camped on. Their ammo was all but gone and salvage was their only option to resupply. They methodically searched each carcass, stripping them of everything they had and sorting it into piles of stuff they needed, stuff they wanted and stuff that was a waste of time. When done they would go over their inventory and load up their packs accordingly.

Max wandered over to the body of the guy that stopped the torrent of attacking tribals with the simple act of dying. The headless corpse of their leader was lying across Cades bedroll. She tipped it over and looked hard at the leftover bits of him before bending to start the grisly task of looting.

Boone came up to her side. He had ignored Cades protests and had insisted on getting up the moment he'd opened his eyes and had been searching the bodies with the rest of them. Cade had watched him worriedly for a while but seemed content as long as he didn't attempt anything too strenuous.

"Found some .308." He informed her softly, looking down at the cadaver. "This guy is Legion." He grunted before walking some distance, stooping to pick up a plumed helmet and then walking back to her.

"A few of them have strips of red fabric on them." She mentioned, taking the helmet from him and turning it over in her hands.

"And tattoos of the bull." He mumbled. "Heard stories they'd come this far. This must be one of the tribes they conquered… didn't finish the job by the looks." He observed as he toed the cloak of fur and skins wrapped around the leaders body.

"Hate to say it, but this looks like dog fur." Max said with a grimace, her nose screwed up at the thought of Dogmeat being worn by one of these men.

Boone took her by the shoulders suddenly and turned her towards him. "You ran off alone during the fight…. Don't do it again." He stared into her eyes for a moment before releasing her and walking away.

It was a gentle admonishment. But she heeded it.

* * *

The Courier and Zac Hobson had no trouble following the trail of the tribals. They had run with no thought of hiding their tracks and the fact that they simply followed the road, made life even more easy. After about five miles of jogging they came to the remains of a town with several intact enough buildings for the rest of the team to hole up in. Courier radioed the location back to Maxson and they kept on running.

Courier and Zac were thinking as they ran. Theirs minds as busy as their feet and eyes. This was a long way to travel in force to attack a small group of nobodies. Courier put the thought out there after they travelled another five miles and stopped for a breather.

"Current theory is nomadic hunting party." Zac said. "Previous theories included; they were after the raiders we got earlier… maybe clearing the road for the caravans, or they were sent to kill the High Elders party. Or we were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Hunting party most likely." Courier mused, "Not good for MacCready if they were after us for food. Looked like they subsided on dog though, thought Denver would have been the most likely hunting ground if that were the case."

"MacCready wouldn't be a big meal… and he'd be a bit gamey" Zac said, hitching his temporary gun over his shoulder. He'd found a sub machine gun that wasn't in too bad shape and there were heaps of 9mm rounds on the bodies.

"I don't know… slow cook him… it'd be fine." Courier replied with no trace of a smile, before setting off at his long legged lope.

The thought of MacCready turning on a spit quickened their pace.

It was almost twenty miles from the spot that they had sent the rest of their crew that they finally reached their destination. They slowed as the saw the potential settlement ahead and proceeded forwards at a crouch. The area around them was flat as a pancake and line of sight was an issue, anyone on watch at the settlement would see for miles. The two of them didn't need to discuss tactics. They would have to wait for nightfall and use the cover of darkness to approach. The run had been tiring anyway and the rest would do them good. They noted briefly that MacCreadys radio signal didn't come up on their pipboys. It didn't mean he wasn't there, his pipboy might be damaged or he was no longer wearing it… there had been no other path to follow and no path branched from the one that lead them here.

They hid out in a small scrubby bank of dead trees and took turns to nap and compare methods. Zac was used to either working alone or in the company of the Brotherhood and the Courier was more used to NCR or being with a partner. They streamlined their non verbal communication for the hopefully brief campaign ahead.

At sundown they moved out approaching the settlement from the east and scaled an old chain link fence.

The settlement was housed in an old speedway track and the people were a curious mix of tribal and legion. Like the Legion had made their indelible mark but then abandoned them without preamble and they were now making their way in a bastardised version of what they once knew and what they'd had forced on them. Dog skins and fur was the predominant feature of the tribals. That and their dyed skin and tattoos. Here and there, there were flashes of Legion Crimson. An armband. A belt. But the unmistakeable bull emblazoned flag that flew over the buildings said it all. These people were agents of Caesars.

Finding MacCready had not been hard. Right outside of the front doors that led into the main structure, there was a large wooden cross and mounted on it, for the whole settlement to see, was Robert MacCready. His head was not hanging low as one might expect from a man crucified. He was looking around him, meeting the eyes of the tribals who made their way before him. Dried blood painted one side of his face and scoured its way down his throat and neck. His hat was missing, his pipboy gone and he was very dirty. He, quite frankly, looked pissed off, so he hadn't been up there too long.

Zac and Courier hung back in the shadows of the tents and pavilions that littered the open area out front of the buildings. There was a large open square in front of them with a raging bonfire at it's center. There was a long spit set over the fire and hanging over the flames was the carcass of what was unmistakably a dog and what was unmistakably a couple of human legs. MacCready a la Barbeque was not on the menu tonight at least. It looked like they had enough to go around for now without breaking out the newest produce.

It looked like the huge group that they had encountered was a long range hunting party, like the type that had gone out in the prehistoric times to hunt Mammoths. Zac had read about them once. The seven tasty looking humans sleeping soundly under the stars must have been a temping offer. The death of the one that had to be their clan leader may have soured the thought of fresh meat for most and by the looks of their base camp they had found plenty anyway.

There were tribal women, scantily clad in their furs and strips of red cloth, crying onto their butcher blocks as they processed the kills that had come so dearly to the tribe. Men, survivors of the massacre by the east coast group, drank deeply of their cups as they recounted their versions of the events to their peers who had stayed behind to keep the home fires burning. No doubt in their stories, there had been many more than seven of them and they probably had trained deathclaws with them and vertibird fire support.

Courier and Zac exchanged looks. Silently communicating their next course of action. Once again they were well out numbered and most of these people were fresh and rested. MacCready wasn't going anywhere for now and he seemed to be coping with his confinement. They retreated away from the settlement and talked quietly about what they would do. Courier was all for walking into the camp and killing everyone and just taking MacCready and walking away. Zac frowned a little at that and thought maybe they could be a little more covert about it all.

Zac suggested he run back into radio range of the rest of the group and calling them for support. Maxson and Cade were still good and by now Boone and Max would be on their feet and though weakened, could offer fire support if needed. Courier was confident he could get MacCready down without being noticed for a while and make his way back a little more slowly and they could all meet up and shoot their way to relative freedom.

Zac would still be in radio contact if something went wrong here, he could even act as a relay to the rest of the group if needs be. They locked down their plan and Zac took off back down the road. Keeping a close eye on his pipboy for the signals from his friends. He didn't want leave Courier alone too long. He needed to get the back-up on their way and then head back again. He ran ten miles in an hour once… he was a little younger and he wasn't carrying quite so much stuff and there _was_ a trio of tireless deathclaws after him at the time; But he was sure he could make it in about the same time again. Surely.

He was gassed by the time Maxsons frequency came up on his pipboy. He flicked on the radio and gasped into the microphone.

* * *

Maxson stood out on the road outside the ancient post office that the Courier had sent them to. Behind him, within the building, he could hear Max arguing with Cade about her actions… again. So far she had been told off by Boone and Maxson for charging off alone in the middle of the fight. Now Cade was laying into her too.

Maxson had wanted to shake her like a ragdoll and rage at her for her callousness, but he had not. He had calmly told her it was a terrible course of action and that she should seriously reconsider her actions in future engagements. He was quite proud of himself for his restraint.

Cade had just called her a bloody fool… things went downhill from there.

Boone sat atop the roof of the post office and scanned the land around them. He had taken up MacCreadys discarded rifle to use the night vision, he would need to add the feature to his own rifle when he got the chance, maybe a suppressor too. He also kept checking his pipboy hoping to see the Couriers frequency suddenly pop up. He absently listened to the argument going on within and smirked to himself at some of the comments and accusations that were being thrown about. Cade was quite the orator when he wanted to be… and very inventive with the insults. Max fell invariably back on curse words.

After a few minutes a strange sound drew his eye down to Maxson who was positioned on the road… it sounded like someone was breathing heavily. Maxson raised his pipboy and stared at it in surprise.

"Zac? is that you?" he asked.

There was gulping and gasping in reply. "Fuck." Came Zacs voice fuzzily though the pipboy accompanied by more huffing and puffing. "We…. gasp… needyouguys…puff puff… running sucks…"

Boone was already moving. Coming down from his nest and gathering an angry looking Max and a fuming Cade as he went. He pulled the two of them out onto the road and up to Maxson to catch the end of the conversation.

"…going back to help, we'll meet you on the road." Zacs voice was signing off.

Maxson turned to them as he clicked off the radio.

"Couriers sneaking him out of their camp and running for it… might not make it so we're going now to help… The settlement is almost nineteen miles away. We won't make it all the way but we can meet them, hopefully not too late to help." Maxson filled them in quickly. "Will you two make it?" he asked Max and Boone, the recently injured.

"We'll make it." Boone said, hitching MacCreadys rifle onto his shoulder.

"Maybe not as quickly as we'd like…" Max added.

They picked up their weapons and their pilfered supply of ammo and set off towards the next fight.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26 – The Next Fight**

The Courier had to admit, that even though MacCready was a bit of a skinny weed, the bugger was as heavy as all fuck. He would have liked to say that he could run while fireman carrying the guy, but Courier was reduced to a fast shuffle at best.

Having been crucified himself once… the legionaries responsible had paid dearly for it, he knew that the stresses on the joints was immense and the pain, he didn't want to think about how much the young guys shoulders were screaming at him right now.

He didn't know how much of a window he had, not sure how long it would take for the tribe to realise that they were missing one MacCready sized entrée and he didn't want to pause to see if they were after him yet.

As he had snuck around their settlement, he had stumbled upon an NCR crate labelled explosives. He'd cracked the crate and found, much to his glee and delight, a nearly full box of Frag grenades. Whatever plan he had come up with was now null and void... he was simply gonna blow some shit up.

His diversion consisted of a pretty wicked explosion that took out the generators and plunged the building into darkness. The outside was still lit up by the bonfire but most of the tribals had run to investigate either the explosion or the fires that he had set in a couple of their tents. He had slunk up behind the guard closest to the cross and slit his throat and then cut the binds that held RJ in place. MacCready might have seemed fine while he had been hanging up there glaring at his captors but he was in truth, too weak to stand. He had muffled a cry of pain when Courier had hoisted him over his shoulders and carted him out into the darkness.

The I70 was smooth enough and when he made it back to it the going was a little easier but he was honest to god tired. He came to a stop breathing heavily. He balanced MacCready on his shoulders while he manipulated his pipboy. Zac's Frequency was there and he needed an update.

"You hear me, Hobson?" Courier rumbled as he started walking again, holding MacCready in place.

"Yeah man." Zacs voice came back, "They're on their way and I'm coming back… You got him?"

"Yep, got him. I gotta be honest though…I'm flagging." Courier grimaced. "Upside is, I found some grenades."

"Good for you, buddy. I'll see you soon."

The Courier ploughed on, trying to put the pain and encroaching exhaustion from his mind. After a while he was almost wishing that the tribals would catch him. He kept his eyes focussed on the long, light ribbon of road ahead. Hoping that he would see one of his people emerge out of the gloom.

Soon his hopes came to fruition when he saw a lone figure making its way towards him. The fuzzy image solidified into one Zac Hobson.

"Oh MY God… gasp puff… fuck running… no more fucking running." Zac weezed as he came to a stop before the Courier.

He bent over, his hands on his knees and his head hanging low and he panted, trying to drag oxygen into his starving lungs. The Courier understood, he was almost there himself. He had to lower MacCready to the ground. Zac gathered his composure enough to inject a stimpak into RJ. They could at least start the healing process, if not lessen his pain. They needed him lucid, just in case, they would dose him with Med-ex when they were in a little less peril.

"I can walk now." MacCready said quietly, subdued after his incarceration on the cross and the threat of being devoured.

Courier nodded but left him sitting in the road as he turned and looked back to way he had come. In the distance, the sky was stained with a dirty orange light. It looked like his little attempt at arson was now a pretty big attempt at arson. It looked like the whole settlement had gone up in flames. He wondered if they had even noticed that there was a dead guard and a missing prisoner or if they were occupied with saving their worldly possessions and their lives.

If they weren't after them now, they would be soon, for vengeance if for nothing else.

The newly reunited trio started off down the I70 again, they moved slowly for MacCreadys sake, though the two other men were glad of the reprieve from the running.

Zac filled them in on his conversation with Arthur, the rest of the group were on their way but Boone and Max were still not one hundred percent yet and they were very far away. Zac gave MacCready a 9mm pistol that he'd picked up from the tribal army, so at least all of them would be armed and Courier also handed the two of them a couple of grenades each. He contemplated setting a few booby traps on the road to slow down anyone following but he had no wire for trips. He sighed and walked on.

After a couple of miles, RJ said they could sped up a little and they managed a slow jog. They kept that pace up right up until Arthur Maxsons form came at them from out of the darkness, followed by Boone, Max and Cade. Max by passed all of them when she reached the trio and took RJ up in a crushing hug.

"Oh God, RJ" She cried feebly, her voice muffling in the folds of his coat. MacCready flinched back as he shoulders twinged in protest and she released him with a hasty apology and a concerned look at the Courier.

"Crucified." He grunted and she looked at MacCready in horror.

He gave a weak shrug as if it was nothing and then turned an irritated glare at Max. "Why did you just run off into an army?" He questioned her. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Max sighed. "We should get going… I'll give a blanket apology to everyone when we get back to the post office."

Cade took a moment to check over MacCready and administer another stimpak and then the now complete group started back to their cover at a good trot.

"I am going to be so fit when this is all over." Zac panted.

* * *

They were all exhausted when they made it back to their temporary base of operations, but they couldn't rest. They had run back and forwards for the whole night and as the sun rose, the tribals would be hunting them down. RJ refused the Med-ex, he insisted he was feeling better and his shoulders barely even hurt now. There was no need to knock him out.

The group fortified the ground floor of the Post office and took stock of what they had to defend themselves against the force that would undoubtable fall on them soon. Max and Boone divvied up the .308 rounds, MacCready couldn't shoulder his rifle, so he was given Cades laser pistol. With little to no recoil in the energy weapon it was better suited to his current conditions. The dead tribals had a wide variety of ammo, even a few .45-70's for the Couriers choice weapons. He decided to take to the roof with Boone and Max to help pick off hostiles until his new ammo ran out and then he would reinforce the group downstairs.

They waited… waiting was always torturous but even more so for Max as the whole group wanted to have a go at her for disappearing mid fight… even though she pointed out that she had eliminated at least two dozen of the attacking force discretely from within their ranks. She was not in the least bit cowed by them all ganging up on her. She had her way of doing things, she couldn't change what she knew.

"It's time for you to realise that you're part of a group now, Princess." Courier growled from his position by the window.

"I do realised that, _Buttercup_." She snided back. "And what I did was for the good of the group. I am trained in solo covert operations."

"You're not going to do the group any good if you die alone in a field, _Princess_." He grated back through gritted teeth. "What if that machete had killed you?"

"Then I would be dead, _Buttercup_." She snapped.

"Hey," Zac chirped up, trying to cut the tension in the room. "If we're picking cutsie nicknames… I bags Cupcake."

They fell silent as Max glared across the expanse at the Courier. "I'm going to my mark." She huffed, before stalking from the room. Boone sighed and followed her out.

The two of them took up their position on the roof and looked out down the I70 for any sign of the expected visitors.

"We were all worried." Boone murmured.

Max sighed. "I know and I'm sorry."

"Good to hear." Courier said, stomping up the stairs behind them, holding both his lever action and MacCreadys .308. He turned to Boone, "Zac has decided your cutsie nickname is Milkmaid."

Boone grunted.

"Maxson got Angel Fish, Cade got Starshine and MacCready got Moonpie." Courier informed them. "Cade wanted Gumdrop… I think they're still arguing the point."

The three of them hunkered down on the roof and looked to the Northwest.

"Max" Courier said gently, "I don't know if you know this, but you're what binds this group together."

Boone nodded, watching the horizon for signs of movement.

"When you're in peril, whether you can handle it alone or not, we can't focus." Courier glanced over at her, she was staring into the distance. "You wanted me to be open and honest… here it is. If you had died out in that field. The rest of us would be dead now too. Don't be so damned selfish."

She nodded.

"Your actions don't just effect you now. You go down, we all do."

She grimaced and nodded again not trusting her voice. She pulled her sunglasses off the top of her head and rested them over her eyes.

Boone raised his rifle to his shoulder and winked down the scope.

"Movement." He muttered.

Max raised 'Nevasee' and peered into the distance. There they were, a howling pack of angry tribals each and every one screaming for blood. Max dropped to her belly and lay her rifle across the guttering. She steadied her breathing and eyeballed the lead tribal, way in the distance. She calmly breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. Two and a half miles and closing. In through her nose…. Out through her mouth…squeeze.

Boone watched as the tribal out in front fell a second or two later

He blinked into his scope and looked at Max in surprise. How had she made that shot?

Her fingers flew on the bolt, chambering another round as she sighted her next target. Nevasee pfft'ed as the next round flew. Boone watched through his scope as another fell. He heard the bolt close again and Nevasee hissed with her suppressed shot. Courier couldn't see what was happening but he could tell by Boones shocked face that every shot she was firing into the distance was hitting a mark. The two Mojave boys stayed silent, not wanting to break her concentration. Boone scooted to her side a fresh magazine in his hand. His best shot was two point one miles. Max was leaving that for dead. She really didn't need that fancy rifle that was now languishing at the bottom of Lake Michigan.

Max ejected her spent magazine and took the next, keeping her eyes on the enemy and reloading blind.

Boone came down by her side and sighted a tribal of his own. Courier shouldered MacCreadys rifle and watched. He knew he couldn't make a shot from here. He was a fair sniper but Max was a master and Boone, up until a few seconds ago was her equal. Now, he was a half a step behind and in awe.

Boone started firing when he knew the shots wouldn't be wasted. They had limited ammo and every shot needed to count. Courier waited even longer, advising the guys downstairs that the hostiles were two miles out. Though their peers were dropping beside them as if by magic, the horde did not falter.

There were about a hundred of them… but even at the distance, though fuelled by fury and the thirst for vengeance for their destroyed home, Courier could see that they were tired.

Max had spent two mags, each bullet downing a target. She loaded her third, moving almost mechanically with precision and purpose. Courier knew he wouldn't be making a shot with MacCreadys rifle. He ejected the mag and readied to hand it to one of the experts. Before taking up his lever action. He had eight shots.

Boone and Max went through the .308, seven full magazines. Forty nine dead tribals, nearly half their number down before they made it in range of the lever action. The tribals were now questioning their life choices.

The Courier made them want to turn around and go back to their sooty home. He stood up tall, sighted his eight targets and cranked his rifle to life. Eight booms rang out and eight more hostiles fell.

Max and Boone drew their 10mm's and Courier pulled out the little .357 police revolver, that he actually decided that he quite liked.

They waited a beat or two longer before levelling their weapons as one and opening fire. and they were joined by the sounds of their comrades below them doing the exact same thing.

Seven people in a crumbling Post office against a horde… it was like a scene out of some old movie.

 **AN: The longest recorded sniper shot to date was made by a British sniper Vs Taliban at a distance of 2.47 miles with a .338 – so I have fudged the distances a little… meh. It's my story, don't question me. :)**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27 – Salvage**

They walked towards the still smoldering ruins of the tribal settlement a couple of days later. Max was on point and she slowed her step as they approached and the group spread themselves out warily.

They were rested, refreshed and fully alert, having taken the time to make sure everyone was fully healed and recuperated after the previous few days trials. They had looted the bodies of the dead again and had accumulated a renewed stock of ammo. Each of them now carried a newly sharpened and cleaned machete and the Courier had divided up his stash of grenades. MacCready had lost his side arm in the original clash with the tribals and was now in possession of a 9mm pistol that Max had fiddled with to clean and upgrade. He wanted a 10mm so he could trade off ammo with the others, but he was better off than the Courier, who had a bunch of weapons that needed rare ammo, though _that_ was his choice. He was more attached to his sequoia and Lever action than Max had been to The last Thing, his precious weapons had been dearly won.

Max looked back at her crew and called a stop. They took to the sides of the road and ducked down to a crouch facing out and she radioed back to them.

"You want to stop?" Max asked as she eyed the settlement. There were bound to be people there, she doubted that the small group had committed genocide and had wiped out an entire tribe singlehandedly. She also didn't want the leftovers trooping along behind them.

She lowered her sunglasses from her eyes and glanced back at her people looking badass in the trenches lining the I70. They were all wearing their shades and all had their weapons held expertly in their hands, so professional, scanning the surrounds for threats. Zac was probably the exception, he had on the visor less helmet and red rimmed glasses that he had picked off of a female raider a while back. He had also attached a nametag to his armour reading. 'Hello my name is: Cupcake'. It was upside down.

She hadn't been part of a real unit since Anchorage… she had forgotten what it was like knowing that there was a whole squad at her back.

"We should look." Couriers voice came back, "might be supplies."

They split into two groups and moved carefully towards the settlement from two different entry points. As they neared they realised that it was deserted and began looking for traps instead of people, they wouldn't put it past the tribals to rig the place to blow if anyone happened to come poking around. Strangely they found nothing of the sort, the remaining citizens of the settlement had just up and left. There were signs of a trail leading to the southwest.

The group fanned out to look for salvage.

Max and Maxson took the smaller of the main buildings. Cade, Courier and Boone took the larger main building and MacCready and Zac took the outside and outbuildings.

MacCready took a few minutes to chop down the site of his crucifixion and kicked the cross after it fell a few times just to be sure everyone got the gist of his feelings towards it. He then stalked off to pick through the ashen remains of the tents. Max looked at the Courier with a raised eyebrow and then looked pointedly at the blackened devastation before them.

"I didn't think you were here that long." She said in an offhand manner.

"It was only a little fire when I started it, I swear." He said grimly, his eyes scanning his handiwork.

"Bone dry conditions and a stiff breeze equals a flambéed village." She mused. She clapped him on the shoulder as she watched MacCready open up a metal box among the cinders, crowing happily at the contents and calling Zac over to look. "Good work." She said before turning and entering her building with Maxson, who was waiting patiently by the door.

The two leaders started from the top of the building and worked their way down, checking everything and piling up loot as they went. They worked quietly and efficiently. Max found herself sending frequent furtive glances over to Maxson as he opened lockers and drawers. He had been subdued since they had left Leavenworth. She could understand it, considering the brouhaha that had occurred but that was over with now. They had cleared the air, but he was still quiet and had retreated into the background. Retreat was not his style.

Max shook her head and put her hand on the handle of a closed door. It was locked. She unclipped her helmet and lay it on the floor and pulled one of the bobby pins from her hair, sending a wispy tendril fluttering down to her shoulder. She drew her screwdriver from her belt and knelt down before the lock. She was aware of Maxson coming up behind her.

"Can I try?" He asked unobtrusively.

She looked up at him over her shoulder and stood up slowly, turning towards him. He didn't step back as she rose and they found themselves only inches away from each other. She paused for a moment, taking the opportunity to look deep into those piercing eyes, they were _very_ interesting eyes that darkened as he looked down at her. He took a deep breath, his chest swelling with the motion and she took a step back then and he took a step forwards. She felt the door against her back as she leaned away from him.

No no no … this was not good, she thought. And yet she couldn't look away from those eyes. He leaned in close to her and she felt her eyelids sinking closed. No… no kissing. Don't do it. She felt his breath on her lips.

She put her hand onto his chest and pushed him back, finding her voice. "I thought you meant try the lock…" She said, with a gasp.

"I did." He said almost as breathless as she was, his eyes roaming over her face and rested on her lips. "but if the opportunity presents itself…"

She pressed her hand more firmly against his chest and he finally took a step back, his eyes disappointed but accepting.

She offered her other hand to him, the one holding her flathead and bobby pin and he took the proffered items, his fingers lingering on hers. She smiled at his continued tenacity even after he'd been rebuffed. He really was quite endearing.

She stepped out of the way of the door and he hunkered down in front of the lock. She knelt down next to him and gave him instructions on how to proceed. After a few minutes, a few exclaimed expletives and a broken bobby pin, the Brotherhood Elder heard a satisfying click from the lock. He actually gave a fist pump. Max chuckled at him and he beamed proudly back at her.

They stood up and opened the door with wide smiles on their faces and BOOM the rigged shotgun went off.

Maxson flew backwards and thudded onto the floor, flat on his back. Max spun sideways and was driven to her knees. She felt the tiny pellets of shot pepper themselves into any of her exposed skin. She only had a tiny taste of the spread. Maxson took the full impact of the blast, full in the stomach.

Max pulled herself off the floor in an instant and screamed into her Pipboy.

"DYLAN!"

She staggered to Maxsons side, came down hard on her knees and pressed down firmly on the wound. His armoured flight suit stopped most of the damage but from so close... the injury was bloody. It seemed like a millennia, but she eventually heard the thundering footsteps of her companions on the floor below. She called out to them in a voice that she didn't recognise as her own, tinged with hysteria.

Then Cade was there and the Courier and Boone. Zac and MacCready picked her up off the floor at Maxsons side and plopped her on an empty mattress out of the way. Zac was examining the bleeding holes in her as she tried to peer around him to the still frame of Arthur on the floor behind him.

"Is he alive?" She asked shakily.

Zac looked back over his shoulder at his friend. "Yeah." He said grimly, taking the offered tweezers from RJ.

He dug into a hole near her collarbone as she hissed and clamped her eyes shut in pain.

"Not deep." He gritted as he got hold of the tiny ball of lead and tugged it out. None of the shot went through her leathers. Only about a dozen pellets had hit her and done any type of damage. Zac pulled them out one by one and stimpaked her. She was fine and dandy. And she didn't care about the stupid pellets in her stupid body. Arthur!

She watched as Cade and Courier worked quickly over him, Boone standing by to hand out supplies from Cades pack. They had pulled off the Elders flight suit and exposed the munted hole in his gut. Boone looked over at Zac and Zac got up to help. He was handed a blood pack to hold aloft.

Max felt awful, Zac must be so worried about his friend, she felt selfish that he had helped her first when she knew he would rather had been helping Arthur.

MacCready put his hand on Maxs arm.

"I'm going to keep watch." He said softly before hefting his rifle. "You need to come too."

"No, I…" She said, but the Major shook his head.

"You can't help them. Let's go."

He dragged Max up and picked up her rifle. He led her outside and they found the ladder leading to the lookout post on the roof of the tallest building.

"Fuck RJ. I almost got him killed… again." She groaned morosely, staring vacantly out. "I keep letting my guard down… so stupid"

"How was that your fault?" MacCready grated, suddenly angry. "Do you have X-ray vision? It was almost you… again!"

Max closed her eyes and ran her hand over her face smearing the little drying rivulets of blood from her injury over her skin. She turned away and looked out at the surrounding land and she was aware MacCready had turned in the opposite direction to do the same. They stood in tense silence for an age… hours? Max wasn't sure but the sun dipped down and plunged the land into darkness before they got the call that Maxson was out of danger.

Max was not a crier, but she sobbed quietly in relief when Cades weary voice came through her pipboy speaker.

Her shoulders slumped and felt a hot tear course down her cheek before she swiped it away angrily and she continued to beat herself up. She had to get her head in the game. No one else in her crew were going to get hurt from now on. No one would die under her watch. She cared too much about all of these men for that bullshit. Each of them were making an indelible print on her heart. Even that smartmouthed Zac Hobson.

Boone interrupted her furious thoughts as he clambered onto the roof and approached her.

"He wants to talk to you. " He said shortly, before turning and looking out, taking her place at watch.

MacCready didn't say anything to her as she left. The young, happy former merc she knew was turning hard again… that was her fault too. She should never have bought him.

Her footsteps were heavy and loud as she entered the building and trudged up the stairs. They had moved Maxson to a mattress and covered him with a blanket. Cade was slumped against the wall looking like his eyelids were weighted and he was fighting to keep them open, Zac was next to him watching Maxson carefully and the Courier was examining the contents of the room that had nearly taken Maxsons life.

She hunkered down beside the Elder, unable to look at his face which she knew was pale and drawn.

"I took my own bullet that time." She heard his voice say softly and she looked up. He had a small smile on his face but he looked so very young and tired.

"That one was mine," she said back, smiling weakly at his jibe. "so, we're even"

"I think we need to make a pact, neither of us should get shot anymore." He said, shifting on the mattress.

"Agreed." She said. She took hold of his hand, shaking it firmly in accord, but not letting it go. She sat and watched him until he fell asleep.


	28. Chapter 28

**AN: First up gotta say this is total filler. Second, sorry about they delay in getting this up. Believe it or not, I actually have an idea what is going to happen next... just gotta figure out how to get there...**

 **Chapter 28 – Onwards and Upwards**

The storage cupboard that had nearly cost Maxson his life was a treasure trove to the travellers.

While Maxson convalesced, the rest of the group sorted through the loot and decided what to take and what to leave. The loaded up the needs first and then hummed and haa'ed over the wants. Zac was being the most difficult, he wanted to take everything, but didn't actually want to add to the weight of his pack and was trying, unsuccessfully, to cajoled everyone else into taking up the slack.

Boone and MacCready took up watch on the rooftop all day. The rest rotated the night shift. Maxson needed a few days for the chems to repair the hole that the shotgun had put into his stomach. He was grumpy about it and he was very put out that he would have to find new clothes. His coat was OK but his black flight suit was unfit to continue wearing, now sporting a large breach that Zac referred to as indoor/outdoor flow. Max set about finding and modding a very fetching set of leathers and armour to replace his Brotherhood regalia. She was also handed a few clothing articles by her male counterparts to repair. She was going to protest about it until she picked up RJ's jacket, ready to throw it back in his face, when she remembered how the tears had happened. She fixed his coat without comment.

She was sitting quietly sewing up a tear in Boone pants, wondering vaguely what he was wearing instead of them, was he on the roof in his underwear or what? She was the picture of the prewar housewife if one could overlook the leather, the armour and the guns. Sitting in the sun, sewing and humming to herself. Even when she was a prewar housewife she never did this. Courier walked up and plonked himself next to her.

"We can head out tomorrow." He grunted before lowering his hat over his eyes… going through his little pre nap ritual.

She nodded silently concentrating on her work.

"If you take out the parts where Boone got shot, Maxson got shot, you got chopped up and MacCready got crucified… this encounter turned out to be quite profitable." He said after a while, his voice muffled under his hat. "I mean, I have a full stock of .45-70 again…"

"I can't speak for the others but I have to say, that finding you some ammo is totally worth getting macheted for." She smiled.

He was quiet under his hat and he soon sat up and pushed it back onto the top of his head.

"Those guns mean the world to me." He explained softly. "My blood is soaked so far into the iron, it's what gives them their shine. I paid for each of them with sweat, tears and the blood of my friends, as well as the swill that runs through my own veins. I would sooner give up a limb than one of those guns."

He humpfed and leaned back into the wall. "Might seem strange to some, but I got my reasons, they're a part of what little history I have."

Max put aside Boones cargo pants and leaned towards him with a slight smile. "It's not strange to me. The Last Thing was just a copy of my old piece, but it was a symbol of something… I'm still cut up about her being gone." She was quiet… hoping to get a little bit more out of him about his past.

His next words told her that he knew what she was thinking.

"I'd love to tell you my history… I really would but…" He reached up and pushed back his hat tapped at the scars on his left temple. "These here… these took it all from me. I got nothing before this."

Max looked at the scars in wonder as she realised what he meant. She couldn't imagine losing her past. Nate, Shaun, Danse. What must it be like to know nothing, even about yourself. The confusion and frustration it must have caused him. She reached out her hand and ran her fingers over the glossy scars.

"Have you ever gotten any of it back? Your memories of your family? Anything?" She asked softly tracing the smooth indents.

"I know I ain't got family." He said, matter of factly leaning back into the wall again, "Got no need to worry about that. Can't be a courier if you've got next of kin. Too many orphans and widows out there for the Mojave Express to be adding to them."

He shrugged at her expression, "It's a weight off knowing that. But, in answer to your question, nope, nothing came back. That's why my name is Courier Six. Can't remember my own name. When Doc Mitchell asked my name, Courier was all I could come up with."

He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling in the corners and he put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "It ain't bad, I've made my peace. I've got almost nine years of memories and the people I've met more than make up for anything that may have come before."

Max smiled back at him, blushing a little at the implied compliment.

Courier sat back again and pulled his hat back over his eyes. "I see you've finally gotten into Boones pants." He murmured with a smirk.

He caught her fist before it hit his arm and he didn't let it go, starting a tug of war, which then lead to the two of them wrestling in the dirt, Max wrapping her legs around the Courier and contorting one of his arms around. He bit down on her leg which was in good biting range and she let go of his arm with a growl to land a few well placed elbows in his torso.

The both leapt back from each other when a gunshot split the air and a .308 round sent up a puff of dust as it struck the ground near them. They looked up at their two snipers on the roof. MacCready was leaning on his rifle with a smirk on his face and Boone was just lowering his from his shoulder, his face looked impassive on the surface, save the twitch in his jaw.

"If you guys are fighting for real… can you please wait until after she fixes my pants." Boone glowered down at the Courier, before walking back out of sight. MacCready just shook his head at them and returned to his post.

"I can't believe you bit me." She snorted as she dragged herself to her feet.

"I can't believe they thought we were fighting for real." He said with a laugh. "So, that was Boone jealous… good to know. Haven't seen that before."

"Oh, cummon." Max groaned. "I highly doubt that."

Courier shrugged and retrieved his hat from the ground, dusting it off and putting it back on his head.

"You remember what I said at Bunker Beta… that hasn't changed." He said.

"You remember what _I_ said at Bunker Epsilon." She snarked back. "That hasn't changed either. I'm not going to entertain suitors for the duration of this trip."

"and I got no problem with that." He said with a grin. "Can't speak for anyone else."

She was about to sit down and pick up her sewing again when the Courier stopped her.

"Now, show me how you got my arm like that." He requested, taking off his duster and hat and looking at her expectantly.

The rest of the afternoon was spent showing the Courier new ways to incapacitate people.

* * *

They struck out at dawn. They followed the I70 west towards Denver. Their supplies once again at full capacity and each of them fit and well. There was one small altercation just before they had left the settlement and Max was thinking on it as she strode down the road from her place at the rear of the group, her eyes scanning left and right was she walked.

Zac Hobson was drawn to things… odd things normally. And in the instance of this morning, he had picked up a helmet, one of the plumed Legion ones that had been found lying around the settlement and he had, predictably, plopped it on his head along with an ostentatious red cape. He had struck a ridiculous pose that had elicited a chuckle from Max who sat nearby closing up her pack.

Zac had drawn his machete with a flourish and made a big show of coming at her with it when Boone and the Courier appeared in the doorway.

Boone had reacted in an instant. His rifle materialised in his hand with a jarring suddenness that was almost frightening and the bolt closed with a menacing click. The barrel was levelled at Zacs head and Max had leapt to her feet and jumped in front of Zac, staring Boone down with her arms outstretched. Courier had grabbed hold of Boone and hauled him back out the door by the scruff of his neck.

Max had followed them out after a quick look at Zac, who seemed unruffled by having a rifle pointed at his head by an expert sniper. She guessed he was used to people pointing guns at him.

Courier was talking harshly to his friend. Boone had that impassive, closed off look on his face that he normally had. He looked to be answering in monosyllables, if at all, to any of the Couriers questions or comments. She couldn't hear what they were saying and she couldn't really see their expressions and definitely couldn't see their eyes, thanks to the almost permanent fixtures of their sunglasses.

Boone had mumbled an apology to both her and Zac just before they set off and he was now in the pack walking next to Courier.

She wasn't sure what had provoked such a reaction to the scene. He couldn't have thought Zac was seriously attacking her with a machete. For one thing, Zac wouldn't go after her with a machete, it wasn't his style, he was more likely to come after her with a rubber chicken and even if he did attack her, she would probably kill him in the attempt or at least make a good show of it.

The day before Boone had fired a warning shot when Courier and her had been grappling, Courier had said he was jealous. This morning though... that wasn't jealously. She may not be able to see his eyes, but there was a rigidity to his jaw that spoke to rage.

She liked the stern sniper and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

The snipers switched out places later in the day and she was in the pack, with MacCready taking rear guard and Boone out on point. She made a point of walking with the Courier. They walked in silence for a long time… a really long time, before he finally spoke to her.

"It ain't my story to tell." He said shortly and he didn't speak to her again. He knew what she was after.

"I can't talk to him when we're walking... can you put us together on watch?" She asked quietly.

He nodded and she dropped back to walk with Cade who had loosened up considerably since they had started this journey and was quickly becoming one of her favourite people.

It was later in the day when Max had taken over point that she saw a group of people on the road ahead. She raised her fist, and her team scattered into their now standard roadside formation. Max radioed back that it was a group of seven people and that they looked to be wearing uniforms reminiscent of the old world army.

It was Boone that came up next to her and had peered at the people ahead.

"NCR" he said with a frown as the Courier came up as well.

"Aren't they a little too far east to be NCR?" Max queried. Not hat she doubted him, but the Mojave boys had said that the NCR barely ventured over the Colorado River due to the massive Legion presence and that they were still stretched thin in the Mojave as it was anyway.

Courier nodded, squinting at the group "We heard that they send a group of scavvers into the ruins of Denver years ago... I doubt they have any real tie to the actual NCR now, but those _are_ NCR uniforms."

"Hostile?" She asked eyeing the group warily.

The pack down the road seemed to be discussing the east coast group as well, they huddled together casting equally wary looks back at them. Almost in response to her query one of the opposing group raised their hand in cautious greeting.


	29. Chapter 29

**AN: Two chapters today because you had to wait for the last one... review ... validate me goddammit.**

 **Chapter 29 - The Salvagers of Dog Town**

The NCR Salvagers of Dog Town were criminals. Plain and simple.

They had been sent to Denver on a work release programme decades before. They worked in the hope to secure their individual freedom from incarceration or at least, they had in the beginning. The NCR caravans had stopped coming years ago to claim their scrap and the Salvagers had been long forgotten and abandoned to the wastes. And yet they continued. They set out daily into the ruins of the city, searching and clearing building after building and then they trudged back to their camp on the outskirts to stockpile their gains. The private caravaneers and traders used to come their way and trade for the valuable scrap for a while. But the increased presence of the Tribals and packs of wild dogs scared them away in favour of the safer routes to the south through Legion territory.

They were free but somehow, not. They didn't really know how to move forward. They couldn't go back to their old homes in California and they were now too set in their ways to leave. So they stayed where they were and did what they knew.

They were a group of a dozen men, now advancing in years, though still spry and capable. The youngest of them was in his early fifties. They had lost only a few of their number over the years, the original group had numbered only twenty souls.

They had honed their instincts and skills in the hostile environment of Dog Town. The city was now as much their home as the one they had known before, more so, as they had been baptised anew in its murky depths.

The east coast group followed along with the scavver team, they were alert and wary but after talking to the leader of the small team, a man called Garcia, they had agreed to travel along with them to their base camp with the promise of a roof over their heads and information about the road ahead. Garcia was amiable enough. He was the eldest of the team, easily in his mid to late sixties and he chatted effortlessly to the Courier who walked at his side. Courier looked relaxed as always but the rest of his group saw his hand resting on his sequoia at his hip and had snapped open the tabs on their own holsters in kind.

It was just after sunset when they came upon the huge complex that the Salvagers occupied. 'Base camp' was not an entirely accurate description.

It was an old warehouse surrounded by high chain link fences in a good state of repair. The slowly rotting bodies of dozens of dogs littered the perimeter and Garcia explained that the dogs attacked the site daily and were shot from the lookout post. The bodies tended not to hang around for long, being dragged away by their pack mates to be eaten every now and then. The dogs were mad and starving and their population was enormous thanks to them being left unchecked for so long. Dog Town had been named such years ago, but now it was more of a dog empire.

The warehouse was packed to the rafters with valuable salvage. Salvage that had been collected over decades and never claimed by their NCR masters back in the west. The Scavvers had expanded to other sites for storage, but those sites were unmanned as they had no manpower to occupy them.

The two groups walked through the gate under the watchful eye of the man guarding it and were led into the structure to meet the rest of their hosts.

The first feeling Max felt, was one of warning. The eyes of every single man fell on her immediately and her hackles raised. She felt two of her male companions come to stand on either side of her, her teams protective instincts kicked in as soon as they realised that their lone female was being appraised in a very unwholesome way from every corner and while Max could take care of herself, she shouldn't have to.

Boone hovered to her left, his rifle locked and loaded in his hands and Maxson was on her right, he was clicking the safety on his rifle on and off lazily eyeing the men before them with cold calculation.

Garcia was speaking quietly to another older man and Courier waited patiently off to the side for his introduction. The new guy greeted the Courier with a nod and was led over to the team.

"Elder, General, can I introduce our host Oscar Hardin?" Courier said formally, to Max and Maxson as he approached them, his eyes held a silent warning to be on their guard. "Hardin, this is General Maxine Everton of the Commonwealth Minutemen and Elder Arthur Maxson of the Brotherhood of Steel."

Hardin nodded briefly at Maxson and turned his gaze to Max.

The guy was fucking crazy. Max could see it in his eyes right away, though the façade of civility was good, he couldn't quite keep the unhinged gleam out of them. He looked at Max the way one of those feral dogs out there would look at a piece of meat and Max wondered with a chill, how long it had been since these dozen lonely men had seen a woman in the flesh.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome." Hardin said expansively. He was easily in his mid sixties with a very high receding hairline that was once charcoal black but was overrun by silver strands. His eyes were dark brown, so dark they were almost black. He still had a lot of vigour and obviously still very much interested in the fairer sex, especially one as pretty as Max.

He reached out to take Maxs arm to lead her deeper into the compound but was halted by the barrel of a .308 rifle appearing under his nose. He shot a dark look at Boone.

"Hands off." Boone muttered threateningly.

"It's OK, Boone." Max reassured him softly, putting her hand on the gun barrel and lowering it to the floor and looking up at their host. "You need to forgive my bodyguard, Mr Hardin. He is very protective as you can plainly see."

"Of course, of course. I understand completely." He grinned at her, sporting a mouthful of broken and rotting teeth. He hesitantly offered her his arm with another look at Boones expressionless face.

Max lay her hand on his arm and allowed herself to be led to a living area in the center of the big warehouse, her team walking behind her, keeping close watch. The area was created by simply stacking their spoils all around it forming 'walls'. There were three separate spaces; Food prep and dining, living and recreation and sleeping. There were no bathing facilities and Max almost swooned and gagged with the wave of body odour that permeated the whole space. The stench of unwashed men was almost thick enough to chew on and she wanted very much to not inhale any of it.

Hardin held out his hand inviting her to sit in a tattered and strangely shiny easy chair in the living space and though she was cringing on the inside she sat down in it and waited for her team to seat themselves also. The ten other scavvers (one was still on guard outside) crowded into the area as well.

Maxson spoke up first.

"Thank you for your hospitality Mr Hardin," He said. "We will be out of your hair first thing tomorrow morning."

To his credit, Maxson tried very hard to smile at the man but it turned out looking more like a hound baring its teeth at an intruder.

"Hmmmm..." Hardin said absently, eyes still on Max "Garcia said you just needed shelter for the night and information on the I70 through Dog Town." He finally turned his dark gaze to Maxson. "and that you were willing to pay for it... but how will payment be made… Hmmm?"

"What currency will you accept?... that doesn't involve our General?" Maxson queried, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.

"I assure you, sir." Hardin sneered. "The lady is safe enough... if that's what you were meaning. But if she were wanting to work out a private arrangement with me, I would be willing, even eager, to listen." He turned his eyes back towards Max, not hearing the low menacing growl that issued from Boones throat and the dark looks that the rest of her companions had adopted.

Max surprised everyone by laughing out loud.

"My God," She laughed, "the amount of testosterone in here might actually be making me grow a penis." She snorted and reclined back into the disgusting chair like it was a throne. "Mr Hardin, I am not going to fuck you for room and board. That is not happening. So, if that is the only option on the table, then we will go. If you have some kind idea to the contrary, then I will hear it now."

"What if that _is_ the only offer on the table?" Hardin pressed, "Just hypothetically."

"I will have to insist that the offer be removed from the hypothetical table" She pressed back, her eyes flashing warningly.

Hardin stared at her and she stared back. The scavvers shifted restlessly from their positions around the space and her team kept their eyes on the General, wondering what her play would be when or if the time came to stop playing nice.

Hardin gave a sharp laugh.

"Chems." He said quickly with a twitchy grin "Just Chems. Jet, psycho, buffout, med-ex, whatever you have."

Max smiled at him. "We have very few chems on us but we can give you the location of our last camp which had a broad selection and a few other odds and ends that you might find interesting." She raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for his approval and agreement.

"How far out is this camp?" he queried with another obvious twitch. "There's Hangdogs out there."

"Hangdogs?" Max asked politely.

"The Legion tribals, you didn't see any? There's a whole settlement to the west?" Hardin said, his eyes not believing that they hadn't encountered them.

"Ah." Max nodded, "We didn't realise they had a name. Yes, that's where we camped."

Hardin blinked back suddenly, his face taking on a very odd expression of disbelief.

"They let you camp there?"

"I wouldn't say 'let us' exactly." She mused. "We had a small battle with them and now, they are gone."

Hardin looked at her with incredulity and then looked at each of her companions in turn, finally taking in their appearances properly. His eyes rested finally on her bodyguard, complete with First Recon Beret and hardened expression. Hardin was crazy, true, but he was not about to tangle with a group of people that had wiped out an entire Hangdog settlement.

He cleared his throat.

"We'll take the salvage from the settlement in exchange for your lodgings." He said it with a sage set to his mouth that made Max want to laugh again.

"Then, you have our thanks." She said, rising from the chair. "We have our own food supplies so if you would be so kind as to point us to our beds, we have been on the road for some time."

The Scavvers still watched Max but they had collectively decided to keep their hands to themselves. A tumble with a pretty lady was not worth their lives and the pretty lady in question was surrounded by what looked to be a group of protective professionals with mean eyes and itchy trigger fingers.

The east coasters were led to an outbuilding stacked with mattresses, folded blankets and packed pillows and they were left to their own devices.

"That was a little tense." Zac observed as he looked around the massive building and selected which mattress, blanket and pillow he would use out of the wide assortment on offer.

"A little." Courier agreed. "What was it like being mentally undressed by so many dodgy characters?" He asked Max with a grin before casting a discrete glance in the direction of both Boone and Maxson.

"No different from any other day." She teased in return.

"Ha… be secure in the fact that I don't undress you with my eyes at all.' He said. He paused for a moment and closed his eyes with a little smile. "Yep... saw you butt naked on the beach at Lake Michigan… that image is burned into my brain."

She laughed.

"We'll set watch as normal tonight. You're sleeping through." Courier said before turning away.

"It's not my turn… I'm supposed to be on watch tonight." She countered, taking hold of his arm and turning him back towards her.

"Don't fight me on this, Max." Courier said sternly. "I want you in here, surrounded by people you trust."

He left her with Zac and went to talk to Boone about setting up some kind of early warning system... just in case.


	30. Chapter 30

**AN: Filler, Filler, Filler - I am going somewhere, I'm sure.**

 **Chapter 30 – The Long Way Round**

The early warning system was triggered just after midnight and outside the storage shed, a shot rang out.

Max bolted upright in her makeshift bed, her 10mm leaping into her hand of its own volition.

The rest of the group had followed suit and Max found Boone at her side once again, wide awake and very alert, his beret was still on his head and she vaguely wondered if he actually slept in it or if he had stopped to put it on first.

Maxson and Cade were on the roof outside for the midnight to three watch shift. After a few moments their pipboys crackled to life.

"All clear." Cades voice came through plainly, but he sounded slightly dubious. "Go back to sleep."

The group inside exchanged looks and shrugs and made their way back to their blankets. The rest of the night passed without incident.

* * *

The group were packed and ready for the long road again. They gathered in the yard outside the warehouse and were met there by Garcia, who had assembled a team of his own to go out for their daily salvage. Today, that group would be venturing east to investigate the Hangdog Settlement and claim their payment for sheltering the east coasters.

He approached the group cautiously and greeted them with a nod.

"Not many out there'd shot a man then treat him for his wounds." He observed to Maxson.

Maxson smiled and turned to Cade. "It was a warning shot , Cade didn't mean to actually hit him. Please give him our apologies once again. We wouldn't want to seem ungrateful for the roof over our heads."

Garcia nodded. "I wanted to tell you to avoid Dog Town. Take the circle route south and meet back up with the I70 on the other side. Road's called the E-470. Turns off before you reach Aurora." He turned to Max who was sequestered in the center of her group. "Ma'am, pleasure to meet you. Real pleasure."

Courier stepped in front of her which made her chaff, these boys were getting just a little too uppity.

"I'm going to talk to the NCR when we get to the Mojave… might send them your way to collect their stuff and you if you're still interested." He said.

Garcia gave a small smile "Don't think I could go back now… been so long out here. But they can come clear out some space."

The group turned as one and left the Dog Town Salvagers compound with a sigh of relief. The road stretched out before them, promising many more dangers but they would be on edge for some time yet in the wake of this one.

These guys knew Denver like the backs of their hands and would most likely tail them for some time.

Zac decided to _not_ be helpful "I heard a that there was a vault out there…" He began, "that housed nine hundred and ninety nine male residents and one woman. How do you think that worked out for them?"

Cade glared at him. "How exactly does that lighten the mood?"

Zac grinned. "I also heard that there was one that had nine hundred and ninety nine women and one man… which one would you rather be in?"

No one chose to indulge him. He just grinned to himself and started humming.

Max insisted on continuing on as they had been before their meeting with the Salvagers and she took point in the afternoon. She would not hide in the pack, she could protect herself from a group of older men and was a little miffed that her team seemed to think that she couldn't. She got that they were protective and she guessed that if she were on the other side of it she would probably behave the same way, but she didn't like it anyway.

She stopped them at the junction of the I70 and the E470 and waited until the group caught up with her.

"So, do we turn south or do we follow the I70?' She asked, peering through the haze towards the crumbling spires of old Denver and then looking down the alternate route that was suggested to them.

"Going around is nearly twice the distance…" Max added quietly, "The I70 has a lot of ideal ambush locations and no line of sight… and dogs apparently"

They all looked to the Courier. He sighed and adjusted his hat

"South." He said shortly. "And we stop at the first viable shelter for the night."

Max nodded and started off again before stopping and turning back to them.

"Buckley's not far from here… we'd be there way before sundown or do you want to go further?" She asked.

"What's Buckleys?" Courier queried.

"Buckley Air Force Base. I dunno what it's like now, might still be secure, it's a little off the main road is all."

'They would have cleared it already... so close to their base. Looks like they do a thorough job too. No loot to be had, I bet." Zac added.

"We'll keep to the road." Courier asserted.

"Yes, Boss." Max said with a grin before striding out to the head of the party again and leading them down the E470.

* * *

So, it turned out that Dog Town was called such for a very good reason. Even on the outskirts of the City, roving packs of dogs scoured the wastes in search of food and when shot, they were promptly dragged off by their pack to be feasted upon. Max shied from the shooting but did her duty. It was funny, she could look a man in the eyes and lop his head off without a care in the world but to hurt an animal cut her up inside. She guessed it was because man had a choice, but animals only had their nature and she had a soft spot for dogs anyway.

They saw no other people, no sign of the Salvagers they had left behind. Maybe being showered with shot had cooled their ardour a little. Cade had blushed when he told of his quick fire reaction to the early warning system going off.

Whether or not Hardin was sneaking in to try and have a go at Max was never discovered and Cade was congratulated on his fast reflexes.

It took a few days to go around the city, but they eventually found the junction that would lead them west again. They camped well off the road that night in a sports complex and Max had to explain to them that baseball was not the only sport that was played in the pre war times. MacCready said that they used to have a basketball hoop in Little Lamplight where he grew up, but it was broken by Knick-Knack, the settlements trader.

"I remember that kid." Zac piped up. "Do you know what happened to him?"

"He's dead." MacCready grimaced, "But I heard his sister had joined up with Reillys Rangers."

"What was her name?… Knock-Knock?" Zac asked.

"Yeah… told the worst jokes ever."

Zac snorted, "More like the best jokes ever," He said with a laugh. "Ha, Reilly… I could've been in there." He mused with a wistful smile.

"No, you couldn't have, Reilly would have snapped you in two." Maxson added a small smile on his face. It was so rare for him to say anything in the evening, even rarer for him to share a joke.

Max listened with interest as the men from the Capital began to reminisce. She had heard very little about their home and their descriptions of the towns and people were fascinating. Max also realised that she knew very little about the men themselves and this was an insight into who _they_ were as well. She tried not to draw attention to herself as she listened, she just let the conversations flow.

She remembered Danse saying he had lived in Rivet City. Zac was talking about it now. It was where he first met Madison Li, the head of CIT. He had been looking for his father at the time. The city sounded interesting, the people opting to live in aircraft carrier, Max could see the security benefits right away. And Megaton, where Zac had met his lady love, Moira Brown. It was a name that she recognised, but she couldn't recall why. Courier spoke up.

"Wait a minute. Your girlfriend is _The_ Moira Brown?… the author of The Wasteland Survival Guide?" He asked incredulously.

"She sure is." Zac said proudly. "I did a lot of the research for that stupid book… almost killed me… a few times actually."

"Well, I'll be…" Courier laughed. "I guess I owe you then. That stupid book helped me out after I was shot in the head."

"Glad to be of service." Zac grinned, "Sorry it couldn't help you to not get shot in the head to begin with."

Cade looked over at the Courier. "Can I ask…" He said hesitantly, not knowing if it was a touchy subject or not, "How someone managed to shoot _you_ in the head?"

Courier gave Cade a look that said plainly that it was OK to ask and Cade smiled.

"Well, the details are sketchy…" Courier said, leaning back into his pack. "As I was telling Max the other day. I got no recall of anything that happened before being shot, but the gist of it is. I was carrying a delivery, I got jacked and they executed me and buried me." Cade gasped at the idea of not only being left for dead but buried as well.

Courier continued with a grin. "A securitron dug me up and dragged my sorry carcass to Goodsprings and Doc Mitchell patched me up."

"Doc Mitchell must be a real good doctor to 'patch up' dead." Cade said, "Triage says, I would have left you too it."

"The Doc was something alright." Courier smiled sadly. "He's gone now but he lived a long life. I wish I could have introduced you, he would've liked you, Proctor Cade."

Cade smiled. "It would have been an honour. Can I still see Goodsprings, though?"

"Hell yeah. Goodsprings is one of my favourite places in the Mojave." Courier said enthusiastically.

"Sunny Smiles." Boone grunted softly from behind Max.

Max looked up at him questioningly. He was sitting halfway up one of the old bleachers by himself, looking out at the mountains. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's his favourite place because of Sunny Smiles."

Max stood and came up to sit next to him, moving away from the others.

"What's Sunny Smiles?" She asked, pushing the other conversation away and concentrating on Boones soft growly voice.

"She helped him remember how to survive in the desert again. He ain't the relationship type, but he probably would be for her." Boones lips twitched at the corners, threatening to smile.

"Well, well, isn't that interesting." Max mused and looked across the fire at the mysterious hard ass. "He's just a big old love sick puppy, huh?'

Boone frowned. "He won't do anything about it. He's a Courier."

Max suddenly remembered the conversation she'd had with Courier back at the Hangdog Settlement. You can't have kin if you're a courier. Can't have loved ones, so no one will miss you if or when you get killed. Max suddenly felt deeply for the Courier and understood what a lonely life he led.

"What about you, though?" Max asked. "He told me a while back that you were like his brother… that's a pretty solid type of relationship isn't it?"

Boone just shrugged and looked back up to the mountains.

"Do you not think of him the same way?" She pressed. Would Boone miss the Courier if he were to die on the job?

Boone nodded. "Yeah." He said shortly.

Max wanted to hit him really hard. The guy was impossible to talk to. She sighed and made her way down the bleachers again leaving Boone to his sullen silence. Courier noticed her coming down and the frown that she wore and sighed inwardly. What was he going to do with that stupid fucking sniper of his? Way to run a girl off, dickhead.

She sat down next to Cade. He put a companionable arm around her shoulders and she leaned her head against his him. Courier smiled, the two of them gave off a strong father/daughter vibe sometimes. It was nice that the group was getting closer. Across the fire Maxson, Zac and MacCready were laughing uproariously about something or other. Even King Arthur as loosening up. The only one who kept himself aloof, was Boone. It was definitely time to have a word with him.

Courier was about to turn his attention back to Max and Cade when he saw Boone reach for the rifle on his back.

"Movement." Boone said sharply. He put the rifle to his shoulder and scanned the road ahead as the rest of the group drew their weapons and crouched down facing out. They waited for Boone to identify his target.

"Caravaneers." He said, his rifle trained on the road. "They're hailing me."

Courier called out to the approaching group.

"Hands where we can see them." He shouted. "Identify yourselves."

"Sams Smallgoods outta Salt Lake." Came the call back.

"Legion." Boone muttered, sliding the bolt home.

"Not Legion, Boone." Courier sighed. "Traders."

He raised his voice again "Come on in. Keep your hands up."

Four men and a loaded Brahmin entered their camp site, their hands up and their weapons stowed. Courier stood up to greet them.

"Where you headed?" He asked the leader, a very short man with crazy ginger hair, as the caravan guards sat by the fire and the brahmin began to graze.

"We're going through to Kit Carsons." Sam replied. "Got a shipment of energy cells. Legion in Salt Lake wasn't buyin' and the Van Graffs get all pissy if you go near Vegas. Thought I'd try my luck out here. I hear Kit trades with the Brotherhood."

Courier nodded. "Came through there a while ago. If you got a map, we can trade some information."

They stayed up and talked until late and then set their respective watches and called it a night. In the morning the two groups broke camp and started off in their respective directions.

The east coast group moved slowly up the mountain road looking for the turn off that the trader had told them to take. Sam had said that the I70 was blocked off several miles down by a group of Supermutants, who had decided to dig in. Boone and Zac were going to scout ahead to see if it was true and the rest of the group would wait at the turn off ready to divert if needed.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31 – Detour**

Zac Hobson was a very fast runner… Craig Boone wasn't a slouch either.

The Pipboys of the group waiting by the turn off heading north crackled to noisy life and they heard heavy breathing and feet pounding on asphalt.

"Run… Fucking run." Zac voice panted.

The group exchanged long looks and then bolted up the road.

Zac and Boone didn't take too long to catch up to them. Zac came up beside Max and gulped in air.

"Could you hit a moving mini nuke?" He asked between pants.

Max nodded in understanding and peeled away from the group and scrambled up the closest bank. She found a good elevated hide with a clear view of the road before spinning around and falling to her belly with Nevasee clasped before her. She lined up with the road and waited for her target to come into view. She didn't need to wait too long. A cluster of Supermutant Suiciders lumbered into sight, advancing on her group, each of them crazed and frothing at the mouth. There was eight of them in total, but she only needed to hit one.

She lined up with one in the pack, zeroing in on the mini nuke strapped to its wrist. The target jerked all over the place with the running movements of the Mutant but she got a good bead on it. She took a deep breath and let her body relax into the shot, finding the mutants natural plodding rhythm before she squeezed the trigger, anticipating where the bomb would be.

She had a brief flashback of the memory of watching the bombs going off before the elevator of Vault 111 lowered Nate, Shaun and she into the ground. The wave of heat and light advancing on her.

The Suicider exploded in a dramatic and frightening burst of fire and dust. The explosion ignited all of the runners around it and what would have been a small nuclear explosion turned into a very large one and Max was right in the periphery of it. Max closed her eyes and lowered her head into the dirt as the wave swept over her. The heat felt like it was blistering her back and she felt the sting and sizzle of radiation burns. She waited for the dust to settle before she stumbled to her feet and scrambled down the hill. She needed Radaway and she needed it now.

Her pipboy ticked menacingly as she staggered up the road in search of her team. Zac found her first and she swayed into his waiting arms.

She gasped as he held her upright and Cade slid to a stop at her side a moment later, Radaway in hand and stimpaks at the ready.

"For the record," She said through gritted teeth as Cade slid the needle into her arm. "Eight mini nukes equals one regular sized nuke."

"Noted." Zac grinned apologetically and the rest of the team gathered around her ignoring the noisy ticking of their pipboys.

"So the Supermutants were a real thing then?" Courier asked with a wry grimace as he watched Cade fuss over Max and her irradiated self.

"Very much real." Zac reported. "Looked like several tribes had joined up and they've barricaded the highway."

"Right then… as soon as Max is good to go, we move out and try to find that settlement that Sam told us about." He shook his wrist like it would quiet the ticking pipboy that was strapped there. "We got much Rad-Ex? We got about five miles to walk to get out of this fallout."

"We have enough, but we'll need to resupply soon." Cade replied handing out capsules to everyone while holding the Radaway bag up so it could dribble into Maxs system faster.

"I'm fine to walk now." Max said, her stomach churning with radiation sickness. "We have to move."

Courier nodded but still looked concerned and they headed out at a quick trot. Max carried her Radaway pouch, seeping the meds into her arm and scrubbing the rads from her and Cade trotted next to her, ready for when she was inevitably going to loose control of her stomach, which she did about five times before they reached minimum safe distance from where the Supermutants had been decimated. Being a little irradiated was a little different to being a lot irradiated. Max decided that she didn't like it one bit.

The team stopped as soon as their pipboys stopped ticking and Courier and Boone went looking for a good spot off the road to camp in, while the rest checked their radiation levels and kept watch on Max. The breeze was coming from the north so they wouldn;t have to worry about the fallout chasing them up the valley for now.

They took shelter under a rocky overhang some distance back from the road in amongst the trees. Max was feeling better by the time her watch came up at three and sat with Maxson and stared out at the forest. Actual green trees, covered with spriggy needles and scenting the air with clean spruce, fir and pine. It was colder but there was no trace of snow about, Max was a little disappointed about that, but the trees….

"Never thought I'd see live trees again." Max whispered.

Maxson didn't say anything, just looked out into the thick trunks in companionable silence. He shuffled closer to her and put his arm around her, like Cade had done and she leaned her head on his shoulder. They stayed like that until it was time to wake the others.

After a few hours of walking the next day she wondered how hard it would be to relocate up here permanently. By mid afternoon she had almost convinced Cade and Maxson that she was moving here with the whole of the Commonwealth Minutemen in tow and by evening, when they reached a dilapidated ski resort she thought she had found her new utopia. It was like the War had not happened up here at all. If the town hadn't been deserted and falling down from age and exposure to the elements, she could have sworn that she could head to the Ski Shop and rent a set of skis to spend the day on the slopes… if there had been snow and if she could ski.

She was in a pleasant daze of contentment and her mood was contagious, the mountain air was revitalising them all.

As they left the resort in the morning, Max was excited about what they would come to next and the day after that, they caught sight of their destination, the settlement that Sam from Salt Lake had told them about, Sulphur Springs.

The road wound down a decline and in the distance stood a row of very sturdy walls, surrounded by a field of sharpened pikes. The road cut cleanly up to the gate which was guarded on either side by a set of watch towers. Max, Boon and MacCready stood back and peered through their scopes at the towers and noted that each was covered very effectively by a set of mini guns and armoured men to operate them.

"Security's very tight." MacCready murmured. "Hope they're friendly."

"We'll go at them slow, keep you hands visible, but be ready to run." Courier warned as they took up formation on the raod again, MacCready in the lead on point and Max bringing up the rear.

They walked cautiously towards the gate, knowing exactly when they were spotted. There was something about having a weapon that could fire six thousand rounds per minute pointed at you that made you take notice of it. They could feel the guns trained on them. MacCready took his rifle in his left hand and raised it above his head to show that they came in peace.

There was a shout from within and the gate cracked open and five armed men and women emerged. They had a range of weapons and they were all very well maintained and the people themselves looked in good shape. The man in the centre of the welcoming committee was short and wiry. His hair was wispy and thinning and he had an unscratched pair of bifocals sitting on his nose. He had to be about fifty and he was dressed in a plain pair of jeans and a thick plaid shirt to ward off the chill. He stood in the middle of his group and raised his hand to get them to stop.

"What's your business here?" He called when they came to a stop several yards away.

Courier stepped to the front of the group "We ran into Sam, a trader from Salt Lake outside of Dog Town. He said the I70 was blocked and we needed to divert this way. Said you'd put us up for the night."

"Did he now?" The man queried. "Did he mention that you'd need to pay for lodgings?"

"He did that." Courier nodded in confirmation. "We'd like beds for seven, a hot dinner and a breakfast. I'm sure the lady would appreciate a bath as well, if that's possible."

Max grinned at his consideration for her. He'd obviously seen her scrubbing at her skin at various times over the course of their trip.

"Yep. We can accommodate you." The guy nodded. "…for fourteen hundred caps or the same in trade."

"Two hundred caps a piece?" Courier looked at Maxson who nodded, they had enough. "Agreed."

"Food had better be gold plated." He grumbled under his breath. Maxsons lips twitched in response.

"Well then, Welcome to Sulphur Springs folks." The man greeted them expansively and he gave them a gummy smile. "My name is Colin and I'll be your host."

He and his group stood aside from the gate and ushered them through into the complex. They walked through the gates and found themselves in a large open space, the ground was cobbled with flat pieces of asphalt and concrete chipped off from other places and expertly laid to form the town square. There was a large building in the center of the settlement and what looked like an old concrete ablution block on one side of the complex and a couple of buildings that looked like barracks on the other side. There were kitchen gardens scattered around bulging with crops. There was more behind the large central building and they guessed there was also a gate on that side as well, following the existing roadway. The place was very well maintained, it almost looked like an old world small town.

Colin came to stand in front of them again. "We'll take payment up front, thank you folks." He said directing them to the building in the middle of the settlement. They trooped up into the building and once inside were directed to a desk off to one side. It had a small tarnished block sign on its top that said 'reception'.

Colin walked to the other side of the desk and sat down in the office chair and looked up at them all expectantly. They all pulled off their packs and began rummaging for their bags of caps. They each counted out their two hundred caps and dumped them on the desk one at a time, for them to be counted again by Colin. Once he was satisfied with the count he looked up at them with a wide beatific, though toothless, smile.

'Sulphur Springs is the crown jewel of the Rocky Mountains." Colin started his spiel like he was from an old commercial on television, "We have guest bunk houses to the right of the gate, you may have seen them when you came in. Each bunk has clean linens and pillows. Dinner will be served promptly at seven. We have Radstag on the menu this evening for your dining pleasure. You'll notice the faint tang in the air… we have a bit of thermal activity in the area but this only adds to our appeal. We have large underground hot pools. The water from which is pumped into out showers. There's no hot water rationing here…"

"Whoa, there." Max interrupted. "You have hot showers and no water restrictions? Where is this Shangri-La you speak of." She said as she began to unbuckle her armour.

Colin smiled at her. "The ablution block is to the left of the gate. Towels are in the lockers by the door and there is soap…"

She was already gone. Cade stooped to pick up her discarded helmet and pack and MacCready picked up the pieces of armour that she had managed to shed.

Colin chuckled. "…In the marked containers by the door." He finished after she had left. He looked that the rest of the group knowingly. "Women, aye"

"Hmmmm..." They all agreed at once and then all smiled at each other.

"We'll leave Max to it and get settled in shall we." Couriers grinned.


	32. Chapter 32

**AN: What's up all y'all? Nothing to say really. I'm on a roll. Review, criticise and comment 'til your heart's content. I can take it.**

 **Chapter 32 – What happens in Sulphur Springs…**

Max was quite surprised to find that the showers were communal and open. She didn't care. She was half naked before she got halfway across the courtyard, much to the delight of the watchmen on duty.

Max had thought that she would have been left alone in the showers, her male counterparts seeking food, rest and information over all else. She also thought decorum and a healthy dose of bashfulness would keep them at bay. So, she was genuinely surprised when not long after she got there and thoroughly doused herself in heavenly hot water, a large male hand reached for the shower mixer in the empty space beside her.

She glanced over and did a double take when she saw Boone come to stand beside her under the hot sulphurous spray. He nodded in her direction and he started washing himself down with the harsh soap provided. She tried hard to think of time when she had seen him denuded of both his sunglasses and First Recon beret at the same time… Never, that's when. That in itself was more shocking than the whole nakedness of the rest of his body.

She shrugged and continued on with her shower. She reached for the little vial that she always carried with her in her belt, tipping few drops of the serum into her hand and massaging it through her soaking hair.

"What's that smell?" Boone asked suddenly, his voice soft and gritty.

She threw him a look that implied that she was insulted. "Fuck you." She drawled, with a snort "Smell?… fragrance, aroma, scent, perfume. Urgh… smell? You may as well have said, what's that stink?" She was grinning at him so he knew she wasn't seriously offended.

'I ain't a poet." He grunted, turning away from her again.

There were a few moments of silence before he tried again.

"So, what is that … _fragrance_?" He exaggerated the word much more than he needed to.

"It's carrot flower extract." She informed him with a light smile, continuing to massage her scalp. "I have the foremost bioscience expert in the world at my disposal and he formulated this to keep my hair shiny."

He grunted again, washing under his arms absently.

"You carry that bottle with you this whole time?" He asked, realising it was flowery smell that always accompanied her.

"Yes, I have." She replied, stepping under the hot spray to rinse the serum out of her hair.

"Why do you care so much about your hair?" He asked running his hand over his own scalp which had sprouted short golden sprigs all over it , having not being able to shave it for some time, it had grown into a long soft layer of golden fuzz.

"I'm a girl." She replied with a laugh, "You might not have noticed."

"I noticed." He said quietly.

The mood in the room changed in an instant.

She looked over at him, meeting his light green eyes and held his gaze for a brief moment. His eyes watched hers before sweeping down her wet naked body and then flicking back up to meet her eyes again.

She felt her cheeks colouring from more than the hot water and steam in the room. Because that right there… _that_ was hot. She resisted the urge to move her eyes from his and peruse him the way he had just done her. She knew exactly what she would see if she did. She instead tore her eyes from his and went on washing though with less enthusiasm than before. She snuck a quick look back at him out of the corner of her eye. He was still watching her, his eyes intent. She didn't get to see his eyes very often, they were disconcerting and compelling and dead sexy.

Max would admit later, it was a snap decision. Might not have been a good one… but at the time Max was naked, slick with soapy hot water and a small fire had erupted between her thighs. To be fair she wasn't really thinking, she was acting on pure instinct. She whipped out her hand and slipped it behind his head to bring him to her. Her lips met his and a tiny spark that had been smouldering for some time finally ignited into a roaring bonfire. Boone responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her to him. Their wet bodies slapped noisily together in the empty and echoy concrete room, every part of them pressing tantalisingly against each other.

Boone suddenly released her and held her away from him at arms length. He had to take a long shuddering breath and think fast. The Courier had been right. It had been eight long years of self imposed celibacy. Eight years since he had been anywhere near a woman, let alone naked and making out with one. If he just jumped in, so to speak, it would be over in an instant as wound up as he was. He needed to take a minute. Thinking was a trial at the best of times, it was even more difficult when the blood had left your brain to visit southern climes.

Boone realised that he had been staring at her for an awkward amount of time without moving or doing anything. She would have thought he had completely spaced out, that he was having second thoughts. He wasn't and he needed to act before the moment disappeared. He bought her lips back to his and kissed her as deeply as he dared, he tried desperately to keep her body from touching his. If she touched him again it would be all over.

But there was no stopping her. Her free hand smoothed its way across his chest between them. His body was so lean and tightly muscled, she could feel her breath coming out in gasps from the smooth and hot feel of him. She bit on his full bottom lip and let her hand descend down his slippery torso, her fingertips grazing the taut ridges of his abdomen. His hand suddenly halted her movement by grasping hold of her hand and he stepped back from her again his eyes dark with lust.

"I, ah….." He gulped stepped back and tried not to lock eyes with her again, "It's been a while. Be over before we start." His voice was strained and he took a few more deep shuddering breaths to try and calm himself.

"Boone." She whispered seductively and took a step towards him, her brilliant eyes bright and predatory. There was no way he was getting out of this, not now she'd had a taste. "Not to be crude, but if you were to blow right now, how long would it take you to… reload... shall we say?"

He looked back into her eyes… damn her eyes. He was having difficulty forming sentences "N-not long… I guess."

She nodded, snaking her hand round the back of his head again drawing his lips back to her. "No problem then." she said, her voice a low growl. "You just need to keep me occupied until you're ready again."

* * *

Courier looked up from his book when Boone walked into the mens barracks. Courier knew the moment that he looked up that there was something not quite right. He eyes swept over his friend. Boone was dressed the same way he always was, Desert Fatigues, first Recon Beret, aviators clipped into the neck of his top. Boots done up tight and only slightly scuffed from walking and his rifle was slung over his shoulder. He was walking the same and his face had the usual grim set to it. Boone walked over to the cot beside the Courier and unslung his rifle and laid it onto the bed with care and the Courier suddenly understood.

His face broke out into a wide grin "You, my friend, smell of flowers… and sex." He said slyly.

Boones cheek twitched and he looked over at the Courier.

Courier sat up quickly and put his feet on the floor and leaned forward intently. "Holy shit, man!" He said in amazement. "Max?"

Boone didn't say anything but he held the Couriers eyes.

"Well, Fuck me… It was Max!" The Courier crowed quietly and his eyes opened wide for a second. "Haha… In the showers!?"

Boone looked back down at his cot and smoothed down the blanket with his hand. He sat down on the edge of the bed and looked back up at the Courier again.

"Ha." The Courier laughed gleefully, chuffing his friend on the shoulder. "Well, I'll be. You sly dog. Here I was thinking you'd blown it"

Boone lay down on his cot and put his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling in silence. The merest hint of a smile playing about on his lips.

* * *

Max stretched languorously and looked around her accommodation for the night. The womens barracks were empty, save her. She thought it strange that the community would have communal showers but separate the sleeping quarters by sex. It wouldn't really take much to chuck a wall or even a curtain up in the ablution block. She was, of course, very happy that they had not.

She wondered how difficult it would be to arrange another rendezvous with Boone.

After his initial trepidation and… performance anxiety? Did that term really fit what was happening to begin with? He was out of practise and full of pent up yearning for her and frustration at his own inability to engage her due to his reserved nature and he was worried he couldn't make it good.

He needn't have worried. It was good. She could still feel her insides throbbing with how good it was. Her skin was still hot and her extremities still tingled. She wondered if she could sneak over to the mens dorms and kidnap him for another hour or so. She wondered at her insatiability. It wasn't like she'd lacked for male company since she thawed. Danse and Maxson. But this was the first time she had wanted to go back for more so soon and she guessed, so often. Like the slice wasn't enough, she wanted the whole damned pie.

The whole damned quiet, reserved, hot, sniper flavoured pie. Mmmmmm pie.

She laughed out loud and the sound echoed around the empty room. She was such a tramp. Had she off her back since she woke up in her cryo pod? She'd had more action in the two plus years since leaving vault 111 than she did her entire life previously. There had been Nate and a guy from her unit called Luke… was it Luke? Doesn't matter, he was an arsehole anyway.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a discrete knock at the door of the dorm. She raised her eyebrow and walked to answer it.

Colin was standing outside on the step with a tray balanced in his hands.

"Ma'am." He greeted her. "You were in the showers so long we thought you must have drowned." He said with a toothless grin. "You missed dinner, thought you might have a hankering for something."

"Thank you, Colin." She said with a smile, she actually was a little hungry. "You didn't have to do that, but I am grateful."

"It ain't nothing, Ma'am." He said happily, "You're lodgings are bought and paid for, may as well get your caps worth, aye?"

He handed over the tray and nodded his wispy head at her in goodnight. He turned and walked back to the central building. Max stood at the door for a moment and saw Boone walking across the yard towards the guard tower. He looked over at her and stopped. She could see his chest expand as he drew in a deep breath. She could see him battle with himself to keep from walking over to her. She sent him a crooked little half smile and he almost took a step towards her and then stopped again as the door to the ablution block slammed open and MacCready, Maxson, Cade and Zac spilled out. Boone looked at her with what could only be described as disappointment and a lot of longing, before walking away towards the gate with his head up and the sullen look back on his face.

Max sighed and closed her door. She wasn't the only one who wanted more, it seemed.

She looked down at her tray and walked over to the cot that she had chosen for herself out of the many on hand. She sat down and rested the tray on her knees and began to nibble at the food and sip at the water. It took a while for her to realise that she was nodding sleepily over her plate. Wow, that came on fast, she thought, fighting to keep her eyes open. Hot water, great sex and full tummy working hard on her travel weary body.

She gave a sleepy laugh which trailed off slowly as she realised that she was beginning to feel queasy and her eyesight was wavering in and out of focus. She shook her head to clear her vision and almost completely lost her balance, though she was sitting firmly on the edge of her bed.

This wasn't natural her brain suddenly shouted at her and she made to stand in a panic. The tray slipped from her knees and clattered to the floor and her legs gave out from under her.

Son of a bitch!... she'd been drugged.

 **AN (again): Can't write smut... sorry.**


	33. Chapter 33

**AN: My husband thinks due to the sensitive nature of the next bit, I should offer a warning…. Legion ahead.**

 **Chapter 33 – I'm A Slave For You**

Max was aware of three people being in the room with her. She kept her eyes closed and her head hanging down. She concentrated on her breathing. She tried to keep it even, like she would normally breathe when she was asleep. They were waiting for her to wake… they could wait a little longer, she needed to get a lay of the land. She needed to figure out where the hell she was because she knew for damned sure she wasn't in the womans dorm at Sulphur Springs anymore.

Things she knew: She had been drugged and moved. She was now a prisoner as demonstrated by her bindings. They had tied her securely to a metal chair. Her ankles attached with thick, coarse rope to the legs of the chair that was her current residence. Her wrists were shackled, and they actually felt like old fashioned slave shackles, heavy iron cuffs encircling her wrists and holding them fast to the sides of the chair. She was no longer in her leathers or Armour and her pipboy was gone. She was barefoot. What felt like a rough homespun smock covered the rest of her… barely. There was something around her neck. She had a bad feeling that she knew what that was. She had only seen them once before, when she had seen the slaves at Nuka World, she had glimpsed the bomb collars that kept them docile.

Three people are in the room. She thought. One is behind the chair, about six feet away over my right shoulder. One is right in front of me. Sitting. I guess watching me, waiting for me to wake so they can be all smug about it… smug and intimidating. And one directly to my left… chewing on something by the sounds, about nine feet away. All men, all armed and armoured if the creak of their clothing as any thing to go by. OK, let's have a look at them.

She raised her eyes to meet those of the man sitting directly in front of her. She kept the look calm and as benign as she could manage and just regarded him, taking his measure.

He looked surprised. Maybe her reaction to her situation was _not_ what was usual.

She took in her surroundings first. The room that they were in was small and lit by lanterns. She can't have been out too long. Unless a full twenty four hours had passed, she didn't think so. She was not hungry or thirsty enough for that much time to have gone by. The room itself was plain. There were only the two chairs, the one she was on and the one he was on. The walls, floor and ceiling were smooth concrete, there was the one barred window next to the man to her left, it was how she knew it was still dark outside. She guessed the door was behind her, next to the man she knew to be standing there. There was a little table to the left of the man sitting in front of her. It was meant to look scary with its array of surgical instruments strewn across it.

She looked at the man appraisingly and understood why Boone and Courier had called them the Legion. The cobbled together armour was very Roman in appearance, a mishmash of old sporting equipment and such and the constant stain of crimson fabric. The other man she could see was dressed similarly. She guessed that the uniforms represented their ranks. The guy in front of her looked more important that the other, and she guessed that the guy behind her was a lower rank as well, like the guy at the window… Guards blocking her exits.

This was a little grim.

"So," She said, forcing her voice to be friendly and chipper. "Read any good books lately?"

The sitting guy narrowed his eyes at her.

"Do you know where you are?" He asked, his voice cold.

"I'm going to guess somewhere west of Sulphur Springs … it's still night, so no more than eight hours away. I doubt you'd walk with a human sized burden for eight hours straight and I'm guessing you weren't waiting outside the door for the chems to take effect. I'm going to hazard a guess that I've been out for a maximum of four hours and a minimum of one, so the most you could walk over uneven ground in the dark while weighted is four miles an hour and taking out the, say, half hour it took to secure me onsite and maybe half an hour to strip me and tie me to a chair – up to twelve miles west of Sulphur Springs, probably less. I say west because we came in from the east north is blocked by the mountains and south is clogged with Supermutants… which is why my party avoided the old interstate" She gave the man a bright smile.

The guy narrowed his eyes even more, watching her through slits before drawing back his hand and slapping her with so much force she wrenched sideways, toppling with the whole chair onto the floor.

The man by the window pushed himself off the wall and reached down to pick her off the floor and set her chair to rights before his boss.

Max spat blood onto the floor. "That was rude." She said harshly, running her tongue over her newly split lip.

"Do you know who we are?" Her interrogator asked.

She shrugged her shoulders absently and winked at the other guy as he leaned himself back against the wall by the window.

"We are Caesars Legion and you are now our slave" He said, sitting up taller in his seat and his face becoming even more haughty.

"Hmmm." She mused as if she found this only mildly interesting. She braced herself for the hit that she knew was coming. Boom! Down she went again, that was definitely going to leave a mark.

"You're damaging the merchandise." She scathed as she was righted once again.

The sitting guy grinned viciously and held up a stimpak, which he then injected into her neck with force.

'You will fetch a very good price indeed," He said, his voice dark and menacing, "I doubt anyone but the wealthiest will be able to afford you. We will stand you naked before them in a private market and let them run their hands over you so they can feel how perfect your skin is."

"Sounds awesome." She smiled again.

"It looks like you need breaking before your showing. You are not a virgin, it is a shame, it would have tripled your price, you would have been my greatest sale." He sighed dramatically, before his lips curved menacingly "But it means that you can be used by my soldiers in the mean time. They would all like to taste you, though not before me. You are most becoming. I will score your perfect skin with razors and take you when you are slick with your own blood and then I will heal you and pass you on to the next." He was visibly aroused and his eyes gleamed as he gazed at her.

"OK, is this happening right now or do you need to work yourself up to that sort of thing." She enquired, unmoved by the creep.

He glared at her a moment and then turned in his chair to select a dirty scalpel from his selection of tools.

She slipped into what she called dead mode. She had been trained for this type of situation in case of capture and torture in her old life, she was moving her mind elsewhere, disassociating with the here and now. Her dead eyes watched him distantly as he tore the smock back from her chest exposing acres of flawless tawny skin, his tongue darted out, moistening his lips as he drew the blade across her de'collatage and watched the hot blood beginning the traverse down her body in glistening rivulets.

She thought of the day that Nate had walked up to her in full dress uniform, out of the blue, in Boston Common. The warm summer sun had been beating down on the Forth of July celebrations. She had recognised him of course. She'd had a crush on the handsome officer ever since he had greeted her unit as they had disembarked from the plane on their first day in Alaska and then there he was again, his shadow passing over her as she sat with her friends in the park. She had scrambled to her feet and leapt to attention before him, her hand jolting to her brow in salute and she remembered blushing hotly when he had told her to be at ease with a sexy grin on his face. It was less than an hour after that renewed acquaintance, that the two of them were up against a wall in an alleyway going at it like animals. She felt her lips curve softly at the memory of her husband.

It must have confounded her tormentor as she vaguely felt his fist strike her face. She wasn't screaming or crying. She didn't beg or plead and promise to do anything he wanted. She just sat there, quiet as a church mouse, her unsettlingly empty green eyes locked on his with a gentle smile on her face. He punched her again and again, his fist making satisfying thuds and crunches on her once beautiful face, but she didn't make a sound. The chair toppled over again and he leapt on her, pummelling her still form until one of the guards reminded him of her value. He glared at the guard but stopped the beating, she was unconscious anyway, she wouldn't even feel it. He would get her tended and moved to his tent. Where he would begin all over again. He would make her scream for him.

Max woke a while later and she was being washed by two young women. The sun was up outside the tent that she was now in. It was early morning. She had been stripped once again and she knew she had been healed, only indistinct pains plagued her so they had used the stimpaks quiet a while ago. The two girls silently lathered conifer scented soap on rags and wiped away the traces of blood that clung to her skin. They were dirty themselves and draped in the shapeless, short rough smocks, their collars glowing at their throats.

"We're you taken at Sulphur Springs?" Max asked them, her voice loud in the empty tent. They cast frightened looks at her face but didn't answer and kept on cleaning her. "Answer me." Max ordered, her voice adopting the harsh authoritive tone that she used in disciplinary hearings back at Sanctuary.

One of the girls cheeped like a baby chicken in fright before nodding jerkily in response.

"Motherfuckers!" Max grated fiercely, causing the girls to flinch back from her.

Sulphur Springs was a honey trap. Hot water, good food and a warm welcome. Drug the clientele and turn them over to the slavers. It was why they segregated the sexes in the dorms, they would have time to make their escape. She had to assume that these slavers were only interested in women. She wondered where her men were, she was travelling in arguably the most dangerous group of people that the world had seen. Had they been dispatched in their sleep? Taken elsewhere? She was damned sure they had not been taken as easily as her, and even if they had it wouldn't last too long. Their captors may even be dead already and they were out scouring the landscape for her. She was not really one to assume the mantle of damsel in distress. She wanted out and she was not about to wait to be rescued.

She bit on her lip as she took in her surrounding. It looked like the inside of a classical Roman tent. She was tied once again to a chair. No iron shackles this time, just thick rope on her ankles and wrists, the shackles must have been part of the welcome wagon. She looked again at the women tending her. They were broken. So timid that they were afraid of their own shadows. She didn't want to think what these girls had been through.

"Girl…what's your name?" She barked at the skinny blonde girl at her feet. She didn't want to be harsh with them, but they were so cowed, scaring them to comply seemed the only way to get through to them.

"Ness." Came the barely audible response from the lowered head.

"Ness, does the man who lives here have the detonator to the Collars? Does he carry it with him all of the time?" She asked and was rewarded with a brisk nod.

"When will he be back?" She asked, her voice was still harsh and held a note of command.

The other girl looked up at her, the girls eyes were wide and hopeless. She was a pretty wee redhead with a smattering of freckles across her dirty nose. Her eyes darted to the tent flap and back to Max "You can't escape… he'll kill us all" She whispered urgently.

"How many women are here? and what's your name?"

"Alice, ma'am." She replied dropping her eyes to the ground. "I don't know how many… can't count that high." She looked ashamed, but continued. "Tiberius Curia will return at noon."

"What time is it now?" Max asked, tempering her tone.

"Just after nine, ma'am" Alice whispered, lowering her eyes to her task again.

Max had three hours to make her escape. No Problem.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34 – Bitter Sulphur Springs**

She had wanted him to go to her again… and he really wanted to go. He almost took the step. The rest of the group had exited the showers before he could action his desire. The look on her face told him that she still wanted him to come to her, even with the audience that included her former lover and still admirer, Arthur Maxson but Boone couldn't do that. He continued on his intended path to the guard tower. She needed to eat her dinner anyway he concluded lamely in his head. He cursed his inability to talk to her like a normal person could. She had sat with him on a number of occasions during this trip and tried to make conversation with him and he couldn't respond. What was wrong with him?

He thought back to the years before… the years before Bitter Springs. He had been a happy guy back then. He could talk and joke with the best of them. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed but he could hold his own in a deep philosophical conversation about the dichotomy of life and death and good and evil... and shit like that.

But then Bitter Springs happened and a bit of his humanity was torn away. And then there was Carla…

He had thought that Carla was his redemption, he could claw his way out of the darkness with her. She was small and delicate and beautiful, like lone desert flower in the waste of humanity that littered the Mojave.

He was wrong.

The moment she had spoken to him that day on the strip when she had put her hand on his arm and said he looked lost… that was the moment he signed her death warrant. More so than the moment that he had pulled the trigger.

General Maxine Everton was not Carla Boone.

Max was not small or delicate. She was strong and fearless. She could kill a man from two and a half miles away just as easily as she could from right in front of her. She was smart. She was a leader and she earned the respect of those around her. True, she was impulsive and reckless and tended to be thoughtless, but he concluded that her thoughtlessness was more to do with her instinct to protect than for any selfish reasons.

Carla tended to prattle on about the inane. She liked to fill the silence and Boone had been happy with that, especially at the time but things were different now. When Max spoke, she spoke with purpose and people listened, even if it was only to hear her called them a dickhead. The corner of Boone mouth twitched upwards before settling into a frown again. She'd called him a dickhead quite a few times.

And then there was the rest of her… and what a sight that was.

Before tonight, he had seen her naked once before. And that was burned into his memory already. She had stripped off that tight black suit of hers as she had exited Lake Michigan, her perfect skin and alluring curves on display for the whole Brotherhood of Steel to see. She was complete unconscious to her state of undress at the time. Maxson had held up his coat to cover her, but Boone and MacCready had been on the roof, the elevated position gave them continued access to the sight. MacCready had laughed appreciatively at the spectacle. Boone had not.

As he had summoned every ounce of his courage and stepped into the showers and had seen her again in all of her glory, the oxygen had been sucked out of his vicinity. His heart had palpitated inside of his chest and his groin had tightened painfully. He had almost run in the other direction. He was happy that he hadn't. He had gone in there with no expectations. Of all the things that might have happened in those showers, what _had_ eventuated had blown his mind.

Boone leaned against the railing of the guard tower, the guy next to him had silently nodded when Boone had asked if he could stand up here with him. He wasn't needed, but it had become his ritual; to take to the guard towers at every stop. Except at the scavvers warehouse. He was not leaving Max alone for anything in that place.

The mountains were peaceful. He could see himself here.

His reverie was disturbed by footsteps on the ladder and the voice of the man who had welcomed (and fleeced) them earlier in the afternoon.

"Evening, Sir." Colin said, brightly. "You didn't make it to dinner. The kitchen made you up a tray."

"Ain't hungry." Boone grunted.

Colin hesitated. "Well, you've been on the road all day and you've got a ways to go tomorrow, I bet. Best keep your strength up." He held out the tray to Boone "It's bought and paid for." He urged.

Boone narrowed his eyes at him. "I ain't hungry." He repeated.

Colin exchanged a long look with the guard before looking back at Boone. Boone didn't like the exchange between Colin and the guard, something had passed between them and it didn't look like it was pleasant.

"Suit yourself, but I'll leave it here in case you change your mind." He put the tray on the floor of the guard tower and retreated back down the ladder.

Boone turned back to the view, ignoring the tray. He'd been hungry after being with Max and had snacked on Brahmin Jerky from his pack. What he was really hungry for, was more Max. He wondered what she was doing now, all alone in the womens barracks. The look she had given him when he'd crossed the courtyard was heated and inviting. The other men wouldn't miss him…

He faintly heard the click of a safety being released from a pistol and was suddenly on alert. Had he missed something? He peered out into the darkness looking for the threat when he had a tingle up his spine. He knew exactly where the threat was.

He whirled on the guard who had raised his pistol and levelled it at the sniper. Boone wasn't great at hand to hand combat but the Courier had taught him a few things. He reacted quickly and sharply slapped the pistol out of the guards hand. Before drawing back and ramming a fist into the guys face. His head snapped back, slamming into the wall behind him before he slumped to the floor of the guard tower. What was that all about? Boone wondered.

He looked around the compound, noting the guard in the opposite tower had not noticed that he had slammed his buddy. Boone squatted down and checked the guy over. He was out cold. Boone looked for the handgun that had been dropped and saw in lying on the ground below and his eyes fell on the tray of food by the ladder. Had he been attacked because he didn't eat the food? He picked up the tray and sniffed at it.

He looked around the compound again in confusion and it was eerily quiet. It had been quiet for a long time, now he thought about it. He fiddled with the controls on his pipboy and tuned into the Couriers frequency, noting that all of them were there except MacCreadys… His pipboy had not been recovered since he had been captured by the Hangdogs.

He spoke into the microphone "Courier?" and he waited for the grumpy response. If he was waking Courier up, he would definitely be unenthused. There was no answer. He tried again, his voice a little louder and he looked towards the mens barracks. Nothing. Boone frowned.

He looked back over at the other guard tower, thinking hard, slowly drawing his beret from his head and he stooped to collect the guards helmet and placed it on his own head. It was too dark to make out features, it was worth a go. He straightened and drew his sidearm and fired two shots into the head of his downed foe. He turned back to the other guard tower and noted the questioning thumbs up he received. He raised his hand and duplicated the gesture and the other guard turned back to his duty. They had been expecting to hear a shot. They had expected to have him dead.

He needed to check on the others. They had eaten the food and he was sure the food was laced with some kind of chem. He climbed down the ladder and sidled along the wall in the shadows towards the barracks. He hugged the building and craned his head to look through one of the windows while trying to keep his eyes on the courtyard at the same time.

All five of the other men were flaked out on their cots. Boone hoped just drugged and not dead. He ducked back into the shadows as the doors to the central building opened and a group exited. Boone drew in his breath and his nostrils flared as he caught the flash of crimson in the light from the open door. Legion. Boone clenched his jaw and drew his rifle from his shoulder. He kept his back to the wall and waited for them to draw nearer. He could get a little intel before he massacred the lot of them.

"… Five strong men." Colin was saying. "there were six but…"

"Five is acceptable." Came a haughty reply. "It will earn you more time."

"Thank you, Centurion." Colin simpered. "If you'd let us take the traders, we'd have more."

"Commerce is essential to a civilised society." The Centurion sneered. "And we are civilised, are we not?"

"Yes, sir." Colin said meekly as he came to the barracks door. He held the door open for his master to enter.

Boone moved to the window again and watched the group circulate amongst his sleeping friends.

"These two are Brotherhood of Steel." The Centurion observed as he stood over Maxson and glanced at Cade. "Good." he approved with a nod of his head. He turned to the Courier and looked hard at him before shaking his head.

"You have four strong men, Mayor." The Centurion said with disgust. "We can't take this one."

"Why not, sir? He is their leader." Colin whined.

"He's a Courier." The Centurion stated coldly. "Most likely their paid guide rather than a leader. We can't take him."

"What do we do with him?" Colin asked.

"Pay him for his inconvenience and send him on his way." The Centurion said dismissively. He looked to his men. "Gather these four." He ordered with a wave of his hand.

Boone moved then, dropping the bolt on his rifle. Eight men. Five rounds. And eight rounds in his side arm. Keep Colin alive… for now.

Boone wrenched open the door and leaned into the doorway. Setting his sights on the head honcho, he squeezed the trigger and grunted in satisfaction as his bullet soared through the surprised Centurions nasal cavity, collapsing his face in on itself. He flicked the bolt again chambering another round and slid down the door frame firing another round and then another before the legionaries realised what was happening. Five to go including Colin. He leaned back out the door and chambered his next round as a flurry of bullets dug into the wooden wall and door frame he had just been leaning against.

He waited for a pause in the gunfire and angled the barrel of his rifle though the door, he poked his head back through the door made a slight adjustment and fired again. Four. Too open here… got to move. He levered himself off the step and slunk back into the shadows and moved back to the window. Colin was hunched against the wall. No weapons. No threat. The other three, in their Legion finery, were trained on the doorway waiting for the menace to poke his head out again.

One of the men jerked backwards as a .308 round shattered the window and lodged itself in his forehead. Boone carefully placed his rifle on the dirt and drew his 10mm and stalked around the barracks looking for his next hide. The two legionaries left alive in the barracks fired wildly at the walls and Boone was forced to the ground to avoid being hit by one of the strays. The commotion had also now drawn the attention of the gate guard who had raised the alarm.

Goddammit! He needed to get in there for cover and to defend his friend… friends, he corrected in his head.

He made his way back to the doorway took a deep breath and launched himself through it landing heavily on his side with a grunt and a gust of expelled air. He fired the 10mm from the floor. Two rounds hit and eliminated one of the remaining legion, one round hit the other too low, careening through the guys thigh. He yelped and fired at Boone.

Boone made an animal sound as the bullet struck him in the side and another in his stomach. He fired again, his round finding it's mark this time and the Legion slumped to the ground with a sigh. Boone groaned and slapped his free hand over his twin bullet wounds. He dragged his knees up under himself, kicked the door closed and aimed a shaky pistol at the cowering mayor.

"Can you wake 'em?" He grated painfully, flicking his gun at his friends, sleeping peacefully in their chem addled state.

"N-No." Colin stuttered. "They'll sleep 'til morning."

"Then, what good are you." Boone grimaced, sending two 10mm rounds at the cringing mayor.

Boone crawled along the floor towards the closest pack, he rummaged through it and pulled out a stimpak, injected himself and searched for another. He could hear people assembling outside. The whole town would be in here with him soon. He dug out another stimpak and injected it and saw a familiar looking red bubble dispenser in the bottom of the pack. Jet.

Boone didn't use Chems… but if it gave him the edge right now, he'd take it. He also drew out a Med-ex. He only needed to hold out 'til morning and then they would be awake and Cade could fix him up properly. He grabbed MacCreadys rifle first, he would work his way through all of their weapons and all of their ammo if he had to, but he'd defend them.

He injected the Med-ex and bought the jet canister to his mouth.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35 – Morning has broken**

The whole world seemed to slow down around him. Everything except him. Boone felt slightly euphoric as he took a knee in front of the closest window and adjusted the unfamiliar helmet on his head. He checked his supply of .308 ammo and loaded MacCreadys rifle. He lay the barrel onto the window sill and looked through the scope and counted the angry villagers that had assembled out in the courtyard… some were carrying torches, all that was missing were the pitchforks… no wait, there was one.

He did a quick check towards the gate. The miniguns were fixed and facing outwards. It would take a few men to move them and use them against him. If they came into play he could kiss his arse goodbye.

There were forty two people out there… and there were still three on guard duty at the gates. All were armed. He sighed. This was really gonna hurt. The Courier owed him big time.

He lined up six stimpaks on the floor next to him and another canister of Jet. He vaguely wondered whose pack it was. He didn't think it was Cades that he had opened. It was probably Zacs… he seemed the Jet type. He adjusted the pile of ammo at his side and looked at each of the weapons he had laying next to him in turn. Couriers lever action, Maxsons automatic rifle and Cades laser pistol. He glanced at the shotgun and hoped he didn't have to use it… that would mean they had gotten too close. He also had his 10mm sidearm.

Right, he thought, his brain oddly calm and focused, let's get this show on the road. He braced the rifle stock against his shoulder and took aim at the first target, the guy out in front of the pack, when he had a chilling thought.

Where was Max?

* * *

Zac Hobson never had a problem waking up in the morning… it was the best part of the day after all. Mornings meant his dad would gently wake him by touching his shoulder and telling him he needed to eat breakfast and get dressed because he was going to be late to school. Mornings meant walking to class with Amata, her arm looped through his as she told him all of the other girls gossip and chuckled as he rolled his eyes. Mornings meant blazing sun rises over the wasteland and pork 'n beans heated over a campfire, while Three Dog read what he thought was news and played what he thought was music. Mornings meant snuggling close to Moiras warmth and soft curves while Wadsworth crashed about in the kitchen below, making something that might or might not resemble food in the end.

Zac was having a real problem waking up this morning. His eyeballs seemed sticky and they were holding his eyelids fast to them. He groaned and tried to roll over. His limbs felt heavy and his head started to pound with a dull ache. He managed to open one of his eyes a slit and it grated like sand when he did. Sticky sand? He guessed that was a thing.

He groaned again, louder this time and he hoped it sounded as disgruntled as he felt.

He was bought to full wakefulness all of a sudden, when a book stuck him forcefully in the side of the head. His eyes flew open in protest to the assault and he looked around for the source of the throbbing head trauma.

"Get up!" Someone growled, the voice was gritty and tinged with frustration and pain.

He snapped his head around in preparation to glare at the guilty assailant and blinked in surprise, seeing Boone crouched by the window, bleeding from _everywhere_ it seemed, he certainly hoped all of that blood wasn't his. It looked like he had tried to stem some of the blood flow by wrapping whole rolls of duct tape over and around his wounds. The wall was peppered with bullet holes, little rays of bright morning sunlight blazed through them, giving the air a hazy dappled gleam.

They were under attack he realised suddenly. He stumbled out of bed, finding his limbs were not as responsive as they should be. He hit the floor with his knees and grunted painfully and scrambled to find his rifle. His hand landed on the body of a young man clad in crimson, a bullet hole in his forehead and clear blue eye gazing into the emptiness. Zac shook his head to clear it and looked around, taking in the disarray around him.

There were more bodies, all dressed in red roman legion style uniforms and over by the door right near Boone, was the body of Colin, two red stains colouring the chest of his shirt and quite obviously dead. The rest of the guys were still sleeping peacefully on their cots, how was a mystery, considering the noise of gunfire from outside.

What the fuck was going on?

He grabbed onto his automatic rifle and checked the magazine. He crawled across the floor to Boones side.

"What's happening?" He asked, his head was still fuzzy, but he understood from the scattered empty weapons, magazines and spent cases that whatever it was, it had been going on for some time.

"They're Legion slavers." Boone ground out through gritted teeth, before raising his head and firing off a few 10mm rounds. "You guys were drugged."

Zac nodded. " 'Kay, how many outside?"

"Dozen left." Boone grunted. "don't let them get to the Minigun."

"Minigun?" Zac asked, firing a burst of 5.56 over the window pane and in the general direction of the courtyard.

"Right side of the big house, they pulled it off the mounting and tried to position it there."

Zac crawled over to the doorway of the barracks and popped his head out for a quick look, gauging the positions of the very hostile settlers. And they seemed so nice last night, Zac lamented.

"Hobson." Boone looked a little stricken. "I haven't seen Max."

Zac bit his lip. "Right. I'm going to slip out the back window and see if I can get to the minigun. You just keep 'em focused on you."

Boone nodded. He looked exhausted and pale. Zac realised that he'd been holding off the townsfolk all night. He hoped he could hold out for just a little longer. He gripped Boone shoulder in silent thanks for a moment and then turned away to crawl across the floor. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and secured his laser pistol in its holster before hoisting himself out of the window.

The window was a little higher up from the ground than he had anticipated. He fell with a crash to the hard ground below and cursed quietly. He still wasn't as coordinated as he normally would be and he wondered what they had used to drug them. He didn't remember his food tasting funny.

He dragged himself off the ground and limped along the wall to the edge of the barracks and peeped around the corner at the courtyard. Boone had kept them well away from their sanctuary, no one had even come close to getting anywhere near them. Zac dashed between the barracks and the line of privys, keeping up against the wall and skirting the settlement. He found himself outside the womens barracks and risked a look through the window. There was a scattered food tray on the floor but no sign of Max. He sighed and continued on. On the corner of the women barracks, he risked another quick look around. The minigun lay on its side on the cobbled ground and was surrounded by half a dozen corpses.

Boone always seemed like a quiet, unassuming kind of guy, Zac thought, but remind me not to piss him off if he has a gun in his hand. The level of carnage out here was impressive.

There was a settler crouched down against the wall of the big central building, close to the heavy gun and another two were creeping along the back of the building. Looks like they're making another play for the big guns, Zac thought, they'd know that the rest of the guys were due to wake up any minute.

Zac sent a tight burst of 5.56 rounds at the sneaky trio, foiling their nefarious plans and leaving two dead and one groaning on the ground. He dashed towards the gun, leaping over bodies as he went and almost crashed into the wall with his momentum. He ducked down and righted the gun, turning its multiple barrels away from the barracks and towards the big house, it made a teeth clenching, grinding sound as it scraped along the cobbled ground. There was no way he could lift it alone and aim it where it needed to be, but he could give them a heck of a fright.

He locked and loaded and the gun began to whirl to life, firing off a burst of maybe a hundred rounds of 5mm ammo into the wall of the big house. It was a complete surprise when he heard a strangled cry from the other side of the wall. Huh. He must have got one. Lucky.

The courtyard was then filled with the loud booming voice of the Courier.

"Any of you all that are left… we suggest you lay down your guns and surrender now. We don't want to have to take the time to kill the rest of you, we got business elsewhere." He shouted.

There was silence around the whole settlement.

"Cummon, y'all." He shouted again. "Just one of us took out thirty or so of your people and a Legion patrol. You really want to see what the rest of us can do?"

The whole settlement seemed to still and after a few moments of unsullied quiet, one woman emerged from the big house with her hands in the air. Then a man came out from the other side of the house and then another. One by one, the remaining citizens of Sulphur Springs surrendered. There were only eight of them left.

The east coast men came out of the barracks one at a time their weapons raised and trained on their prisoners, except Cade and Boone who were probably treating and being treated, respectively, for the mass of bullet wounds and blood loss sustained over the course of the night. Zac stalked out from beside the building, his automatic rifle lifted and he joined his group.

"Morning fellas," He chirped cheerily, "Sleep well?"

Courier gave him a meaningful glare and turned on the Sulphur Springs people, who flinched back collectively from the intimidating scowl that he had adopted.

"Seeing as Colin is slumped in the corner of our room with two bullets in him… who would be in charge now?" He asked the assemblage.

A guy of medium height and build stepped forward hesitantly but didn't meet his eyes. Courier eyeballed the top of the guys head.

"Alright, Sunshine. Let's get to the guts of this. We're a person down, where would we be finding her?" Courier queried, his voice hard.

The guys mumbled something incoherent and then jumped as the door of the mens barracks slammed open and Boone stomped out. He tossed an old helmet forcefully away from himself and fitted his first recon beret to his head and slid his aviators into place. He strode across the yard to the womens barracks, Cade following behind him protesting loudly for him to slow down. Courier frowned as he watched his best friend thump up the steps and disappear inside. Boone emerged moments later with Nevasee slung over his shoulder and he was tucking full magazines of ammo into his pockets.

He strode up to the group of survivors and grabbed the new 'leader' by the scruff of the neck and hauled him away towards the western gate. Courier reached out a hand to stop him and then dropped it. He knew it was no use now, Boone was out for blood.

Boone dragged his quarry across the western courtyard, not caring when the guy lost his footing and was literally being dragged along by the back of his shirt, his skin and his hair. Boone came up to the gate and once there, slammed the guy face first into the solid wooden and corrugated iron structure. The man turned around quickly and looked in dread at the blood soaked and cold eyed sniper in front of him. He leaned back against the gates as the barrel of the rifle was levelled at his head.

"Open the gate." Boone grated harshly, his voice icy and oddly dead.

The man hesitated and Boone fired, the bullet grazing through the terrified mans ear, dashing spray of bright blood against the thick gate and causing the guy to wail in pain.

"Open the fucking gate!" Boone raged, no longer capable of rational thought. The only thing that mattered was finding Max and killing Legion. Because this was not happening again. Not Again!

The man fumbled in his pockets for the gate keys, dropping them from trembling hands to the unyielding ground and having to scramble after them on his hands and knees as Boones calculating stare followed him. He finally regained his feet with the keys in hand and unlocked the heavy gates with unsteady hands. He pulled the heavy chain free and swung them ponderously open.

Boone fired a .308 round into the guys brain pan in lieu of a thank you. He checked his ammo supply one last time and went through the gate and into the untamed wilderness of the Rocky Mountains. He didn't have just one bullet this time. He would murder every last one of those Legion motherfuckers and bring back his girl.

 **AN: Don't forget to review, I don't reply much (or at all) but I do appreciate them.**


	36. Chapter 36

**AN: Again… my Husband thinks I need to offer a warning – I think that y'all get that when you're dealing with slavery, that sh** **i** **t is going to go down, I don't go into too much detail, you can use your imagination. Possibly, this bit is darker than my normal style but one of my reviewers wanted hurt…not sure if this is what they meant though...**

 **Chapter 36 – Master**

OK so, maybe 'No Problem' wasn't entirely accurate.

Max would have loved to say that things were going swimmingly for her back at the slavers camp. But in all honesty… they weren't.

She had ordered, cajoled and hell, even pleaded with the slave girls to cut her free. She had promised that she could remove their collars, set them free and take the camp for them, if they would only give her the first nudge to freedom. Her authoritive growl only got her so far. She could only get information out of them but not action. They were too far gone in cowed slavery.

Max gritted her teeth and ground her jaw in frustration. She didn't really blame them, she had no idea what they had been through up until this point in their enslavement and she didn't want to guess. Would she be willing to risk the lives of all of the women in this camp for a complete stranger, no matter how confidant she seemed?

She expelled air from her nose in a long impatient gust as she eyeballed Ness, who was across the tent faffing about with cleaning products and straightening up. Alice was behind her, drawing a comb through her newly washed hair. Her damned hair had already been clean, clean and smelling of carrot flowers just how she liked it. Now she smelled like a stupid conifer tree.

"Can I at least take a closer look at one of your collars?" Max tried to engage the girls again. "I can't touch it, I just want to see how it's armed."

Alice stopped combing.

"Alice, I can take them off." She said assured the girl, for the hundredth time. "I can free you."

The girl started combing again. FUUUUUCK! Max slumped her shoulders in defeat.

There was the sound of male voices outside of the tent and the girls began to quiver in fear. Each of them ceased what they were doing and knelt on the floor in front of Max and pressed their foreheads into ground in submission. She was out of time.

She heard the tent flap being forcefully swept aside behind her and the heavy footfall of a man in armour enter. She carefully arranged her face into an expression of indifference.

"Oh, Honey," She said brightly, her voice dripping with barely suppressed contempt "You're home. How delightful."

Tiberius Curia walked arrogantly around Max's bound form, he arrogantly kicked the girls on the floor aside with his heavy armoured boots and stood before her with his hands arrogantly on his hips, a cruel smirk on his arrogant lips. She couldn't wait to beat that arrogant sneer from his face. She'd smash those horribly twisted lips through the back of his skull.

"You heal fast." He said approvingly after he had looked her over for remnants of her earlier beating, taking his time on her smooth bare thighs and the tawny unblemished skin of her chest where it sank into the deep shadow of her cleavage. "Good."

"You are something to behold." He said a little breathlessly while he perused her. "I may even send you as a gift to the Bull himself."

Who the fuck was the Bull? Max thought.

Her eye caught the movement of the slave girls as they gathered themselves off the floor and crept quietly away. Ness crept back a moment later dragging a chair with her. She positioned it behind Tiberius Curia and crept away again, her eyes downcast. He sat without looking behind him. He reclined back into the chair and continued to look her over.

'Before I contemplate your fate, either as product or gift, I think I need to crack on with breaking you. I have been thinking about it…" He mused softly, his icy blue eyes glittering.

He held out his hand and snapped his fingers imperiously. Ness scurried forwards again and placed a hunting knife into the mans open palm. She met Maxs eyes this time, she clenched her jaw and looked away quickly, taking her place on the far side of the tent with Alice. Max saw her draw a deep breath and let it our shakily, the girl knew what was coming.

"…and the brazier, girl." Tiberius Curia snapped impatiently over his shoulder.

Ness jumped in fright and hurried over to one of the smoking cast iron braziers in the corner of the tent. She slipped a pair of red oven mitts onto her hands and struggled to move the hot, ungainly thing over to his side. She went over and collected another item and placed it in the scorching coals. She caught Max's eye again, this time she had tears threatening to cascade down her dirty cheeks. As she once again took her place next to Alice on the side of the tent, she lifted the hem of her smock that hung over her left thigh and exposed a circular burn in the shape of a crude rendition of a bull. It was about the size of the bottom of a nuka cola bottle.

Oh Hell No! Max thought suddenly… he was NOT going to brand her. No way in fucking hell was he branding her like cattle.

Max kept her mouth shut and looked him in the eye, this was not the time for quips and banter. She twisted her hands against her binds behind her back and felt the rope cutting into her skin with no give what so ever. This was shaping up to be a really shitty day.

Tiberius Curia rolled the hilt of the knife in his hands as he contemplated her, he gripped it firmly in his right hand and leaned towards her. He inserted it slowly between her breasts, blade down and began to cut her smock away from her body with rough jerking slashes, the tearing sound of the fabric grating on Maxs nerves and set her teeth on edge. She watched his face as he worked, cutting away the tunic piece by piece, tear by tear, until he had her sitting naked before him. He sat back slowly, his eyes pawing at her.

"I get the feeling…. Profligate… that you don't care for your own skin." He spoke softly, almost absently as he devoured her body with his eyes. "But I also get the feeling that you _do_ care about the skin of others."

Max tried to keep the rage from her eyes but she knew they were flashing. She needed to calm down, she needed to relax, she couldn't shut down if she continued to boil so. She drew in a deep breath, her nostrils flaring and her eyes slipped closed and then opened. She felt her face colouring as she struggled for control. He was looking at her face now and she tried to maintain the façade of indifference to him.

He looked back up at her face, a slow smirk coming over his face again as he saw her reddened cheeks, mistaking it for a blush. He didn't see it, the struggle. She was glad of it.

"It is my job to find weakness." He informed her, his voice sliding over her like nails on a chalkboard. "You are strong. But others are weak and _your_ weakness is caring about _their_ weakness. Alice…come here." He ordered sharply.

The little red heads eyes opened wide and a look of terror crossed her pretty face. She stepped forwards hesitantly and slowly slunk over to her masters side. Her head was bowed and her lips trembling, a tear snaked its way down her cheek.

Tiberius Curia locked his eyes on Maxs as he reached his hand up, snaring the young girls hair and dragging her to her knees at his side.

"I selected Alice as my own." He said in a conversational tone, clutching the blazing locks in his fist, the young woman flinching and gasping in pain. "She is pretty and delicate and she was so terribly easy to break. This girl will do whatever I want, whatever I need… and I have some voracious needs, do I not, Alice?"

Max didn't waver, she stared directly into his eyes as he began to tear at the girls tunic.

She couldn't do anything. She wanted to roar in frustration, in fury. She wanted to tear from the ropes and crush this creatures face into a gory smear on the floor. But she could do nothing but sit by and watch as he assaulted the poor girl. He watched her as well, his eyes roaming over her as he used her naked flesh as fuel for his ardor, while he used the young girls unwilling body for his twisted gratification. He shuddered out his release with his eyes on Maxs lips and his tongue sliding over his own.

He threw Alice away from him forcefully when he was done and she flailed on the floor for a moment before she picked herself up slowly, she ran her hand over her mouth and slunk back to her place against the wall of the tent, her shoulders hunched as she buried down her racking sobs and her eyes squeezed shut.

Tiberius Curia smiled then. Max had growled low in her throat and her lip hitched up in a snarl. It was the first emotion that she had shown other than mocking or indifference. He adjusted his armour, covering himself and leaned over to the brazier. He turned the handle of the branding iron, sending up sparks from the burning coals.

He turned back to her, his eyes cold and cunning.

"I won't touch you after this," he said, "and neither will any of my men. If you attempt anything that I deem threatening or disobedient or disrespectful, you _will not_ be punished. One of your sisters will. They will take every lash. They will take every cock and they will hang from a cross in a blizzard if need be… all for you."

He picked the branding iron out of the coals and smiled beatifically at her. "That is, unless you take the life of one of my men. I cannot condone that. You will lose your head for that and I will select five other girls to die with you. They will go first while you watch and then I will take your pretty head off your pretty shoulders and mount your mouth at crotch height outside of my tent."

He grinned and brought the brand down onto the side of her left thigh.

Max didn't flinch, she ground her back teeth together and her eyes blazed with hatred as her skin sizzled and puckered under the brand. The smell of burned meat pervaded her senses and she inhaled it deeply, feeding the hate.

"And if you run…" He whispered threateningly, pressing the brand down hard, "If you run, I will kill them all."

He pulled the brand from her thigh and placed it back into the brazier with a nonchalant toss.

Tiberius Curia sat back with a satisfied smirk on his face. "Not so chatty now are you, woman?"

"I was wondering how long it will be until you send me away as a gift for your Bull?" Max queried, though her voice no longer held her usual mocking levity. "How will you keep me docile when the threat to the others is no longer a risk?"

Her green eyes burned as she held his icy stare.

"Ha." His short laugh cracked without humour. "You believe I am the worst of the slave masters…How quaint. You will be bludgeoned into submission with the innocent eyes of children when you are given to Him. He will surround you with little ones who will take your punishments the way my girls will here. Is your rebelliousness worth the blood of dozens of children?"

She glared at him, her fire slowly extinguishing and he knew that she was done.

He stood up and leaned over her, his lips brushing against her ear. "You belong to the Legion now." His chill voice whispered softly.

He pulled back from her, his eyes sparkling with humourless mirth as he ducked down and bought the hunting knife to the ropes at her ankles and cut them free. He straightened and walked around to her back. He leaned in and pressed his lips at her ear again.

"Slave." His voice hissed as he dragged the blade over the bindings at her wrists, letting them fall to the floor

Max stared straight ahead. She couldn't do anything.


	37. Chapter 37

**AN: It's been ages and with Xmas coming, my updates may not be as prompt as they normally are. I will not abandon the story though. If you've read my profile, you'll know that really sluts me off. Anyhoooo, still with the legion so warning still applies. I don't think it's bad though. Remember to review.**

 **Chapter 37 – Sisterhood**

Max came out of her trance when she felt Alice applying ointment to the brand on her thigh. She didn't know how long she had been sitting there, staring into space, but the three of them were alone in the tent once again.

The young woman dipped her fingers into the harshly scented jar of salve and dabbed it as softly as she could to the angry burn. Max looked down at the girls head, bent in concentration as she ministered to Max yet again.

"I'm sorry." Max whispered.

Alice didn't look up, she simply shrugged her thin shoulders and lay the jar aside.

"I can't use a stimpak, in case it heals over. It doesn't look like you scar at all and I'd hate for him to have to do it again." Alice said quietly. "And I can't put gauze on it, 'cause it will stick." The girl looked at the floor for a while not moving and her head bowed. "I should have cut you loose." She whimpered inaudibly, before standing up abruptly and walking over to the slave masters desk.

"Don't be silly, girl." Max snapped. "You were protecting you and yours."

Max regretted her harsh tone immediately when the girl flinched into herself but Max couldn't believe that the girl was blaming herself for what had just happened. There were plenty of people to blame but little Alice was not one of them. Max sighed.

"Do you know if I'm to walk around naked? Or am I allowed to dress?" She asked, her voice softer and a little dejected.

"Don't do anything and don't leave the tent." Ness warned from across the way, "He hasn't given you leave yet."

"Fan-Fucking-Tastic" She breathed angrily. She looked over at Alice again. She was retrieving the little red oven mitts to move the brazier back to its original position in the corner of the tent.

"Wait, I've got it." Max interjected, she got up off the chair and took the mitts from the girl and lifted the heavy unit with more ease than the smaller woman. "Are you OK, Alice." She asked carefully as she straightened the brazier.

The girl nodded her head despondently as she picked up the frayed ropes from the floor and threw them in the trash can as callously as Tiberius Curia had discarded her. She looked at Max out of the corner of her eye, taking in the raw and weeping burn on her leg.

"You didn't even cry." The girl whispered.

The girl gasped and fell flat on the floor as Tiberius Curia swept back into the tent and Ness mirrored the action on the other side of the tent. Max wondered if she was expected to genuflect to this twat as well. She decided against it this time and straightened her shoulders instead. He clamped his eyes on the still nude body of his newest asset.

"Wear this." He ordered, shoving a swath of red fabric at her.

She raised her eyebrow at him and shook it out, revealing a long silky dress. She was going to inform him that red wasn't really her colour, but again held her tongue for the sake of the other girls. She pulled the dress over her head and allowed Alice to help arrange it for her. It was a floor length, roman style gown that haltered around her neck with a brass ring that locked at the back, leaving her shoulders bare. A chain of brass rings clinched it in under her bosom and the rest of the dress draped from there. There was a cheeky slit that ran from the chain below her breasts to the hoop at her throat, allowing a flash of ample cleavage when she moved.

Tiberius Curia looked her up and down with approval as she finished clothing herself.

"Good." He said absently, his eyes still raking over her. He was already regretting his decision to send her to Flagstaff. She was a rare piece of flesh but she would be in better hands down there with more ferocious slave masters and the Bull would reward him greatly for such a handsome gift.

"You will be travelling tomorrow to the Legion Capital and you will be presented to the Bull as a gift, with my compliments." He announced grandly. "You will be travelling with a group of slaves to ensure your continued good behaviour. If we receive word that the full consignment does not reach its destination, all of the young ladies here will be forfeit."

With that, he turned and departed from the tent again.

Max pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded her head in acceptance as she watched the canvas at the opening flutter and settle.

"Who is the Bull?" She asked dully, without looking at the other two girls, she kept her gaze on the tent flap.

"He is the Caesar." She heard Ness' soft reply, "the head of the legion since the death of the old Caesar at Fortification Hill and the Legate Lanius at Hoover Dam. He is based in Flagstaff."

"My Da said that the old Caesar was killed by the Courier and the NCR Sniper…" Alice added wistfully

Maxs head whipped around and she stared at the girls, one after the other. "A Courier and a sniper? When was this?"

Alice shied back from the harsh tone and Max cursed herself. She needed to control her tone or she would forever have these girls flinching away from her.

"It was almost ten years ago." Ness said coming towards her, her eyes suddenly alight. "Have you never heard of them?"

"I'm from out east." Max said her eyes narrowing.

"They say that the last, best hopes for humanity are ten feet tall and immortal and that they are still out there, ready to bring the Legion to its knees." Ness' eyes began to glow as she talked about her favourite subject. She could forget that she was a slave when she talked about the mysterious men who walked into Caesars tent on Fortification Hill after slaughtering the whole encampment and removed him from power by removing his head... And then they freed all of the slaves.

Alice also seemed to have disappeared into a haze in her head upon hearing about it if her glazed eyes were anything to go by.

"You're not talking about Courier Six and Craig Boone, are you?" Max said, her eyebrows raised. Courier was impressive but was he the 'last, best hope for humanity'? He snored, should the last, best hope for humanity snore?

"Yes." Ness swooned. "Courier Six… and Craig Boooooone."

Max rolled her eyes at the girl. "Courier Six is six foot three, Boone's Six one, they're pretty regular guys and they both have some very unsavoury habits." She said with a snort. Boone had some very good habits too, she thought to herself with a tinge of sad regret at what she would now be missing.

Ness' eyes became the size of saucers. "You know them?" She said in wonder

Alice came up beside her and they both gazed at her in awe, like she had achieved divinity in their eyes by association with the heroes of the Mojave.

Max hmmmed in assent and she was suddenly mobbed by the two girls who seemed to temporarily forget that they were slaves currently standing in the slave masters tent, they were acting more like groupies at an Elvis concert.

"What are they like? Are they handsome, I bet they're handsome… and strong. How did you meet them? Are you their friend?... Girlfriend?"

Max raised her hands to stem the flow of questions but she didn't want to dampen down the sudden light in their eyes. She hushed them. This was actually pretty funny, or would be, if the circumstances were different.

The young slaves were so engrossed in Max and her familiarity with Courier and Boone that they failed to notice that their master had entered the tent yet again. Max met Tiberius Curias eyes over their heads as he looked over his excited slaves.

At first, he looked surprised that they had not startled like frightened fawns at his arrival. He then looked annoyed that they had ignored his entrance and he then looked angry at their unexplained levity. Max grimaced, this was not going to be good at all.

"What is going on in here?" Tiberius Curia barked in a rough voice.

The two girls almost leapt out of their skin at the sound and both fell to quivering heaps on the floor, curled up on their knees and their foreheads on the floor in supplication. Alice let out a quiet whimper. Max once again stayed on her feet. She was not used to grovelling on the floor whenever someone walked into a room and that was a mistake. A muscle in Tiberius Curias cheek began to twitch as he glared at the woman who dared defy him. Tiberius Curia was only slightly taller than Max and it chaffed him that he couldn't look down on her as was her place, rather than eye to eye like an equal.

He strode up to her, so close that she could feel his breath on her lips and almost hear the thunder of his angry pulse through his armoured chest.

"You will kneel slave, when your master enters the room." He growled into her face, looking like he was ready to bite at her.

Max hesitated, her jaw clenched and eyes fierce. It was only a short pause and she was in all honesty going to obey him, but she moved too slowly for the slave master. His fist buried itself in her stomach and the air whooshed from her lungs. She fell to her knees and gasped on the floor at his feet. Tiberius Curia was not content with that, he drew back his booted foot and drove it onto her ribs sending her flying sideways, sprawling onto the floor. He then sent kicks and curses at the other two girls, who fled out from under his feet in the furious attack.

He turned his attention back to Max, who had dragged herself off the floor and was kneeling next to the masters bed, trying to get her breath. She turned her head in time to receive a powerful punch to her cheek, making her see stars and sending her back to the floor with a crash.

Curia had lost his cool, his promise that he would not touch her forgotten. He would teach the proud woman a lesson before she left his camp and he would get his taste of her, he deserved it after having to out up with her rebellious refusal to bow to his control.

Max was wrenched from the floor by her arm and half thrown onto the bed, landing face first on the narrow wooden cot. She drew in deep breaths, filling her lungs and trying desperately to contain the urge to retaliate. She didn't dare fight back though she knew what was about to happen to her.

She dragged oxygen into her lungs against the linens and furs on the surface of Tiberius Curias bed as she felt the man roughly pull the skirts of her new dress up over her thighs and backside.

Get out of your head, Max. She cried to herself. Get out, Now!

Her mind flew into the hot and steamy showers at Sulpher Springs. The air was alive with the earthy smell of wild carrot flowers and a hint of the sulphur that gave the town its name. The sound of running water, soft moaning and heavy breathing was all that could be heard. Her soft hands were running over the pink, sodden skin of Boones hard lean shoulders. His lips were nestled in the hollow of her throat as he inched his way down her body. His large, rough hands smoothed their way around her naked hips and came to rest in the small of her back as he drew her to him. For a while, it was all perfect.

Max was jolted back to the present when a heavy hand pressed firmly into the small of her back and she almost cried out.

No, No, no. Get out of your head.

But she couldn't.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

But the violent intrusion that she was expecting didn't come. Instead, she heard a loud thump, a groan and a heavy man sized weight fell across her back smothering her into the mattress.

Max struggled out from underneath the weighty, armoured object, shoving it off her and onto the floor next to the bed. She sat up to see little Alice brandishing a police baton and Tiberius Curia, out cold on the ground.

Alice looked down in horror at the unconscious slave master at her feet and then turned her wide eyes to the baton that hung loosely from her own hand. It clattered from her grasp and a wail escaped her gaping mouth. She fell to her knees and began to rock forwards and backwards, keening in terror at the immense act that she had just committed. Max looked from the little auburn haired slave, who had been cowed and submissive right up until that moment and to the slave master who, when he woke, would kill the girl without hesitation. Ness cowered at the back of the tent. Her eyes spilling over with tears and hopelessness, she would no doubt, feel the wrath of her sister slaves actions as well.

Max needed to act now.

She stooped down to Curias still body and began rifling through his pockets with shaky hands.

"Alice. Ness. Rope and something to use as a gag… quickly girls." She ordered in a barely even voice, as she drew out the collar detonator from his armour. She looked over at the slave girls… Neither had moved.

"Now girls… Move" She barked.

Ness collected herself the fastest. Her tear stained cheeks coloured and her red eyes began to burn with desperation. She dashed around the tent collecting rope and a roll of duct tape. She helped Alice to her feet and the two girls set about tying and taping the slave master to the chair.

Max examined the detonator and looked around the tent for any sign of her things. There was nothing here.

Alice was weeping brokenly, her bright hair sticking to the trails of tears on her cheeks. Max took hold of the girls shoulders and bought her around to look at her.

"Thank you, Alice..." Max said gently, bringing the girl in close and hugging her softly. "You saved me. Now I'm going to save you, OK?"

Ness had drawn a piece of string out from under Tiberuis Curias armour. She yanked it over his head and showed it to Max.

'I think it's for the collars." She whispered. Her dirty face was streaked with clean trails from the tracks of her tears and her red, puffy eyes looked hopeful as she looked up at Max.

Max took the key and examined it closely and tilted Ness head back and looked at the collar on her throat. She handed the detonator to Ness and unlocked the collar about her neck and Ness gasped at it detached with a click and she rubbed at her bare neck in wonder. Max tossed it on the bed and then went after Alices one and then her own. Alices collar landed on the bed next to Ness' but Maxs snapped around the throat of Tiberius Curia as his head lolled about.

"Do you know what they did with the things I arrived with? … my armour, my gun?" Max asked as she took the detonator back from Ness. She crouched down and picked up the discarded police baton.

Ness shook her head and Alice still looked out of it, like she hadn't even heard her.

Max looked around for something else to use as a weapon and found her pipboy in the drawer of Tiberius Curias side table. She snapped it on and continued to look around as it booted up.

"The Courier had one of those." Alice said softly, looking vaguely at the pipboy on Maxs wrist.

Max smiled as she looked at the pretty little slave girl. "If you guys can work with me… I will introduce you to the Courier in person." She said.

Alices pale blue eyes flashed to life.

"They would have put armour and guns in the quartermasters tent." Alice said. Her meek little voice was tinged with a new found assurance. "I can get it for you."

The little slave picked up her bomb collar from the bed, snapped it back around her throat and ducked out of the tent before Max could say anything.

 **AN: In answer to a question I got - I said previously that Max has a scar on her butt from a death claw attack. She has the scar because she took too long to treat the wound. Under normal circumstances, with her two hundred plus year old metabolism, Stimpaks work overly well on her and as a result, she has no other scars. I also know that legion don't normally use Stimpaks as they shun chems, but I made an exception. It's my story, shut up. :)**


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38 – Slave Camp, West.**

Boone stalked through the undergrowth like a predator. His passage was nearly silent and nothing cracked or crunched under his feet as he moved. Nothing dared. He walked parallel to the road, staying hidden but following the trail. His mind was split in its focus; one moment his brain was calling for the heads of every legionary that haunted these mountains and the next he was desperate to set eyes on Max again. It was all leading to the same end… he would either find Max and kill all of the legion scum that took her or kill all of the legion scum that took her and find Max as a result.

His mind also kept drifting back through the years to the night that he tracked the legionaries that took Carla. He tried to yank his attention back to the present but the thoughts invariably strayed there, taunting him, mocking his steely resolve.

Give it up Craig. She's gone. You've lost her. You've failed again. Karma still has it in for you.

No Fucking Way. If she's dead or even hurt in any way, I will BATHE in Legion blood tonight.

Max can kill from two and a half miles away. She has no weapons. Max destroyed a dozen Coursers with her bare hands. She is drugged and bound. Max is the General of the Commonwealth Minutemen. She's not in the Commonwealth now. Max is a leader. She is a slave.

Boone growled at his own thoughts, wanting to dig them out of his head as they leapt between hope and despair. He relentlessly pressed on.

Over the course of the day he had encountered and dispatched a Legion patrol. He knew that the camp was not far away from Sulphur Springs and west was the only direction to go. Finding the patrol set him on the right path to the slave camp. Maxs frequency had been on his pipboy when he had checked it last night. She was within the ten mile radius then. The signal was gone now. But that didn't mean anything, she just wouldn't have her pipboy on anymore.

He knew he was close. He could practically smell the sweet, earthy fragrance of her hair in the breeze.

* * *

Max cut a hole in the back of the tent and slipped out into the camp. She had taken the hunting knife that had been used to cut the smock from her body earlier. Alice had recovered her armour from the quartermasters tent but was unable to convince the guard that she was supposed to collect the sidearm as well. The knife would have to do for now.

She had dressed quickly into her leathers and armour while Ness and Alice stood over Tiberius Curia ready to bop him on the head again if he regained consciousness. The girls were quite taken with their task and watched the slave master closely for any movement what so ever. He had already received a couple of hard whacks though he had actually shown no signs of waking. Max had to censure them, if they did it too often he would be permanently damaged and she still wanted to have a chat with him.

Max checked her pipboy. All of her teams signals were there except MacCreadys, who had lost his pipboy when he had been crucified. It was still a sore point for him. She knew that they were within ten miles of her position, and still alive and well or at least still wearing their pipboys. She didn't dare call them yet and she had also turned down her volume, just in case the slave camp was alerted to her free status by Zac Hobson crooning some Sinatra ballad down the line to her… it wouldn't be the first time.

She skulked in between the tents her eyes everywhere, she needed to work her way through the legion soldiers as fast and as quietly as she could. She needed to get to the main slave pen and secure the other slaves, as well as hunt out the ones who were in other tents being put to work or being used by their captors.

She edged along the outside of the tent next to Tiberius Curias. She could hear voices inside, one of the voices was distinctly female. She lay down on the cold ground and carefully raised the edge of the tent and peered inside. A woman in her mid to late thirties, wrapped in one of the immodest slave smocks and a collar blinking at her throat, was polishing a set of legion armour under the careful watch of a man in a red tunic, who was lounging indolently on a cot. It was just the two of them and his back was to Max.

She silently slithered under the canvas and into the tent. She came quickly to her feet and wrapped her arm around his head, her hand clamped over his mouth and she drove the knife into the side of his neck. He jolted and jerked in her grasp, spouting blood out in arcs across the tent as he slowing quieted and died. She drew the knife out of him and lay him down on his cot. She put her finger to her lips and shushed the surprised slave who had very little in the way of reaction to the sight of a blood fountain and a newly dead guy in her eyeline.

Max approached her quickly and without a word unlocked the collar about her neck.

* * *

Boone heart began to thump when his pipboy alerted him to a new radio signal.

She was OK, she had to be.

He quickened his pace, his grim countenance brightening with every step. He needed to hurry now more than ever, if she was awake and angry, there would be none left for him when he finally found her. And he really wanted to kill more legion.

* * *

She moved from tent to tent and as she went she left a slew of dead men behind her. As she moved she upgraded her weapons cache from a simple but effective hunting knife, to a wicked combat knife to a machete to 9mm pistol and so on and so on. She was running out of places to hide though and the bulk of the men were in plain sight of each other out in the open. In their mess, in their makeshift arena or just lounging around in the open central area in front of all of the tents. She went for the perimeter guards next. And then the few who wandered into her way as she made her way back to the main force in the centre of the camp.

She stood in the shadows in between the tents and counted the threats. There were too many of them, she may need to wait until they started to disperse towards their tents and guard posts or whatever they did later in the afternoons and evenings. But that could lead to the discovery of the many bodies that she had left lying around and then it may well be all over as the alarm was raised and they actively searched her out. And the other slaves could be hurt. She nibbled on her bottom lip as she thought. She'd never had to sneakily kill a group of twenty two trained and armed men all at once before.

She didn't have time to formulate a plan as the camp went into a sudden uproar when one of the sentries standing guard by the slave pen mysteriously dropped dead from a large gapping hole in his chest. Max cocked an eyebrow at the scene and tilted her head in question. Another legionnaire suddenly fell and then another. Max grinned.

Her boys were here.

In the confusion, she dashed into the fray, the knowledge that she wasn't alone spurred her on. She had her borrowed guns spilling out deadly rounds in all directions and as they emptied she picked up the weapons of the fallen and used them against the rest. She knew her guys could clear the compound so she went for the mess tent.

It was quick and messy inside the tent. She had taken them by surprise, and she ended up with six hostages of her own.

She escorted the six legion men to the slave pen and sequestered them there as the slaves huddled in a group in the middle of the compound. They were confused and dazed and very scared, shying back from the bloody carnage that surrounded them. Max sought out Ness and the first lady that she had freed to remove the collars of the slaves and give them a little food and comfort. And she looked around for the members of her team, they had not shown themselves yet.

She was about to call out for them when she saw Boone walking towards her from the eastern perimeter hide that she had cleared earlier. Just Boone, covered from head to toe in dried blood, duct tape wound around his clothes in various places. Aviators in place and bright red first recon beret firmly on his head as it should be, like a beacon. She walked towards him trying hard not to smile, trying to kept the neutral look on her face to match his as he approached her.

"Hey." He said as he stopped in front of her.

"Hey." She replied.

They looked each other up and down to make sure that the other was ok.

He grabbed hold of her shoulders and dragged her into a tight embrace, the tough impassive charade shattered and she hugged him back just as tightly. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest and heard the ragged breath rattle in his throat. He didn't let her go. His strong arms kept her contained against him with no sign of letting go or even loosening their iron grip.

"Boone," She whispered. No effect, he was still holding her as hard.

"Craig."

He flinched back from the name, his grip wavered and he took a deep breath, he slowly held her back from him and looked into her eyes.

"You're OK?" He asked quietly, his voice seemed guttural, more so than it normally was.

"I'm OK." She smiled back reassuringly and touched his face with her soft fingers. "We need to help these ladies though."

Boone looked around as if seeing the camp for the first time. The dead bodies and huddled slaves. His eyes fell on the six captor Legion contained in the slave pen and a growl rasped deeply in his throat.

Max had things to do here. She needed to set a few things to rights before they left. She touched Boone arm to bring his focus back to her and looked at her pipboy and selected the Couriers frequency.

"Courier?" She called into the microphone.

"Max? Thank fucking god, woman." The Couriers voice came back to her, it was crackly and faint but it confirmed the ten mile distance and it was good to hear his voice. "Where are you? What's happening?"

"We're at a Legion slavers camp about ten miles or so west of Sulphur Springs, if the radio range is anything to go by." She grabbed hold of Boones shoulder again to bring him back to her. He had raised his… no wait, _her_ rifle to his shoulder and was targeting each of the Legion prisoners one by one and making indistinct gun fire sounds.

"We're coming." Courier said, "Boone's on his way already."

"Boones already here." She said with a smile. "We have people with us and they some need medical attention."

"Who's with you?" He asked grimly.

"Former slaves." She said shortly.

There was silence at the other end of the line.

"Max, Cade here. How many? Just so I have the right amount of supplies… and what types of injuries?"

"Twenty seven ladies... not including me. I'm fine." She added hastily. "And injuries concurrent with being a slave… infected cuts, bruises, open wounds, malnutrition… rape related injuries."

There was silence again as they, no doubt, discussed it among themselves.

"Max, _Are_ you OK?" Couriers concerned voice came through a moment later.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm fine." She repeated.

"We'll see you soon." He said as he signed off.

Boone was looking at her hard… she had been a captive for a while. She still had a massive bruise on her cheek where Tiberius Curia had struck her the last time and her ribs ached from his boot and fists. She also had a brand that still sizzled and stung on her thigh.

"I got a good beating, but nothing more than that. I'm fine." She assured him.

He ground his teeth together but nodded his head.

"I have something to do. Can you keep watch on the prisoners?" She asked him.

He responded with a smirk and he swivelled his head towards the six unfortunates in the cage. She took hold of his chin and turned his face back to her. "Courier will want to talk to them, don't kill them… and watch the ladies too."

He nodded and stalked towards the slave pen, where he began to pace in front of the hostages, keeping his hooded eyes glued on them.

She shook her head at him. She needed to get to the bottom of his obsession with the legion… Later. She needed to have a chat to Tiberius Curia.


	39. Chapter 39

**AN: There certainly are a lot of people reading this. I'd like to thank you all for your continued patience with me. I'm not a very good writer (No, seriously, I'm not, don't be a dick) but all of your words of support have been awesome and so very much appreciated. Continue to review and PM me. Your ideas and views are great. And in answer to a question; No, I am not an American, that's why some of my spelling is different (or correct** **J** **) though, I try to use American–isms, as y'all make up most of my readership.**

 **Chapter 39 – The Last, Best Hopes for Humanity**

She put him in the exact same position that she had been in when she had first awoken in their camp, tied and shackled to the metal chair in the concrete room. She had also added a gag, she had no interest in whatever he might have to say. She seated herself in the comfy chair directly opposite him and waited. She had Ness stand by the door and Alice stand by the window, holding up a mirror to the scumbag, showing him what it was like to be on the other side of the shackles. The other addition to the room was the large smoking brazier that she had position over her right shoulder.

She waited, straightening out her leather armour that she had donned thanks to Alice in lieu of the flowing red dress that she had been supplied with.

After a long while, he slowly began to move. Clawing his way back to consciousness through the ache of the whacks to the skull that he had received at the hand of his former slaves and he groggily lifted his head.

"Well, hi there, sleepyhead." She chirped at the Legion slave master as he eventually blinked into wakefulness.

His eyes widened suddenly at the sight of her and he began to tug on his bonds, his body tense and straining. Max sat and watched silently and calmly for him stop wriggling around. He eventually stopped, his energy sapping and puffed in his confinement, the duct tape gag pulsing in and out with each of his ragged breaths. He looked up at her sitting in the same spot he had occupied only hours previously. She smiled brightly at him.

"Not exactly the turn of events you were expecting?" She asked conversationally, her eyebrow raised and her head tilted to one side.

He shot a look over at Alice who was leaning against the wall by the window. To her credit, she tensed but did not cower. Max could sense her unease at the slavers eyes being on her, so she did something about it. She punched him in the side of the head sending the prisoner and chair keeling over sideways, in a replication of the early mornings events.

"Don't look at her." Max said, chastising his flailing form. "It's rude."

She had Alice and Ness set him to rights. The girls fussed a bit, dragging the chair left and right trying to get it straight on the floor, but Max waved them away. She turned her attention back to the hostage.

"Tiberius Curia." She began expansively. "What am I going to do with you?"

She stared into his icy blue eyes in silence.

"You want me to tell you what I'm gonna do with you?" She asked pleasantly after a minute of uneasy quiet as the slave master glared at her. "It's only fair, seeing as you chose to impart _your_ intentions towards me when we first met… yeah, I'm gonna tell you."

She reached over to the tray of tools and drew out the same scalpel that he had drawn across her skin, her dried blood still on its blade and began toying with it in her fingers as she leaned forwards. Her flashing green eyes found his. He was no longer smug, no longer cold. He was terrified. She gave a slanted smirk.

"I'll keep it short and concise, so you can follow what I'm saying… I am going to slice off your penis and testicles and then I'm going to cauterise the wound with your little bull brand so you don't bleed to death." Her smirk turned into a devilish grin and she leaned back in her chair. "It will hurt… a lot… and you will probably faint, but ya know what? I'm gonna wake you up again and make sure you feel every moment of it… and then… well, then I'm gonna get really nasty."

She cast a look at the meek and broken, Alice. "…or rather, these two young ladies are gonna get really nasty."

* * *

Courier Six lead his team into the slave camp at sundown. The guard towers were empty, save the corpses of the former sentries and there was an eerie kind of silence as they walked in between the tents. As they emerged into the central clearing there was a collective gasp from the group of freed women that clustered together there, at the sight of the five new strangers.

Max was nowhere to be seen and Boone was glaring at four Legion men inside a slave pen off to the side. The women kept casting frightened looks at the darkly scowling Boone, as much as they would have for their former masters.

Courier didn't want to scare the ladies anymore than they already were, so he skirted the clearing and approached Boone.

'Hey man, you all good?" He asked softly.

"Yeah." Boone replied, not taking his eyes off of his captives.

"Where's Max?"

"Torturing the slave master."

"Will she be long?"

Boone shrugged.

"Who can talk to these ladies for me?" Courier said with exasperation.

Boone shrugged again.

Zac Hobson had hunkered down next to one of the young women on the periphery of the group and was talking softly to her. After a moment or two, he motioned Cade forwards and the medic began checking the young lady over for treatable damage. Courier nodded in relief. Hobson had a gift for talking to people. He left Boone to intimidate the legion boys and walked back to Maxson and MacCready who were waiting awkwardly between the tents.

"MacCready and I won't be much help here." Maxson admitted, watching Cade and Zac talking to the slaves. "We'll take up watch at the gates… Is Max OK?"

Maxson looked around, worried that he hadn't seen her yet and wanting to clamp eyes on her for himself, to be sure that she was alright. He had worried about her since he had awoken to find that she had been taken in the night. He had wanted to go after her as much as Boone had. Though he was sure _he_ had actually wanted to find Max, not go on some vendetta mission against the Legion, like Boone had.

"Yeah, she's OK… she's apparently torturing the Slave Master. I'm gonna guess she didn't appreciate being collared." Courier grunted.

She shouldn't have left these women unattended. Sometimes that woman didn't think.

"Setting watch is good, thanks Maxson. I'll help Cade and Zac settle the womenfolk." He grimaced, "hopefully, Max will show herself before it's fully dark"

Maxson and MacCready both nodded and set off in different directions to the gates.

It was maybe ten minutes later that Max wandered out from among the tents with two small ladies in tow. She stopped and tilted her head towards Boone when she saw him. She frowned and wandered over to the slave pen and looked at the four Legionaries cowering on the far side of the cage with a cocked eyebrow and then down at the floor of the cage which was now home to two dead bodies. She turned her glare to Boone.

"I didn't kill 'em all..." He justified with a stubborn set to his shoulders.

She gave a snort and turned away in time to come face to broad chest with the Courier.

"You left _him_ to watch the Legion captives…?" He said caustically, before taking hold of Maxs chin and tilting her face into the light. "Jesus Max." He began digging in his pockets for a stimpak.

"No wait… treat them first." She said quickly, waving towards the former slaves. "I've been bruised before, and besides I need to get my ribs checked and I have a favour to ask as well… After."

He pursed his lips at her but didn't press her.

"I'll take over watching the _remaining_ …" She gave a pointed look at Boone for emphasis, "…hostages."

She relieved Boone of her rifle and gave him gentle push towards the Courier.

Courier nodded. "Take over from Maxson at the eastern gate, Boone. He's got your rifle." He said firmly.

Boone looked genuinely pissed off and cast a long look back at the cage and it's crimson clad inhabitants before stalking away.

Courier looked down at the two wide eyed girls who had accompanied Max. They were looking at him weird.

"Oh yeah, Ness, Alice, This is Courier Six and that guy…"Max waved towards Boones angrily retreating back, "…is Craig Boone."

The red headed girl made a high pitched cheeping sound and hid her face in the shoulder of the other. The blondes ones eyes opened even wider, if that were possible, and her bottom lip began to tremble.

Courier tipped his hat at them both. "Ma'ams." He rumbled gently to them, not wanting to startle them further.

The blonde one looked like she was ready to faint dead away.

"… Err… do they need medical attention?" He asked Max with an uncomfortable sidelong glance at her.

"No." Max shrugged. "They're just overwhelmed by your illustrious presence." She grinned up at his confused face. "Look at you and Boone, being all famous and everything." She chuckled to herself.

"The Last, Best Hopes for Humanity." She intoned in a deep, mocking voice, and she laughed when the confused look slipped from his face and was replaced by a shady glare.

"Are people still going on about that?" He said darkly. "Boone's gonna be pissed."

Max laughed harder.

"For someone who was a slave a few hours ago, you're pretty chipper." Zac observed from behind the Courier. "You delirious?"

She waved her hand at him vaguely, indicating that she was alright.

Courier scowled at her and then at the two unoffending slave girls, who instantly shied back from him. He immediately stepped back from them with his hands up, softening his expression.

"I'm gonna go." He said quickly, "We'll sort your injuries shortly."

Max nodded, still grinning. She looked at Ness and Alice whose eyes were following him closely as he withdrew from them.

"You scared him, girls." She said flippantly, before turning towards her captives.

* * *

Maxson came and sat next to her as she watched her prisoners. He had her pack and her helmet and he placed them on the ground next to the chair she had dragged over to the cage.

They didn't say anything for a long time as they listened to the camp settle. Some of the women were crying. Maybe it was from relief at being free, maybe it was from the uncertainty of what they were going to do now, Max wasn't sure and it made her sad. Freeing slaves was supposed to feel good, but after the initial flurry of activity, it seemed cold now. And scary... would the team now have to take responsibility for these ladies? Bring them along to the Mojave? And then what? Leave them there? Decisions needed to be made.

She sighed and looked at Maxson as he watched the four men in the cage sitting and looking back at him.

"So…" She said quietly. "How did your day go?"

Maxson gave a small smile. "Only slightly better than yours, I'd say." He replied. He looked over his shoulder at Cade, Zac and Courier as they were still sorting through the various injuries of the ladies. Ness and Alice and the first other slave Max freed, had taken a leadership role and were directing the ladies to tents to sleep, wash and eat… Max still didn't know the name of the other lady.

"Do you have a Stimpak on you?" Max asked Maxson as a thought occurred to her.

Maxson searched through his pockets and when he didn't find one, opened his pack and rummaged around. He drew out a few items and laid them down next to him and Maxs eye was drawn to a scrap of white fabric with the institute logo emblazoned on it. Maxson eventually made a sound of triumph as he pulled out a stimpak and waved it around in victory.

She smiled at him. "I wouldn't get too excited over it. I'm gonna ask you to do something and you might not like it." She said, looking over at the busy medics. "They're too busy…"

She stood up and unbuckled her belt. She unzipped her leather pants and Maxsons face took on an undiscernible look.

"I don't know why you think I wouldn't like to, but is this the best time and place?" He said as she pulled her pants down over her thighs.

He gasped as she uncovered the blistered and weepy brand on her leg, all trace of any humour gone.

She ignored his look of horror at the bull shaped burn and drew her combat knife from her discarded belt.

"I've left it too long and I won't have _this_ as a scar." She gestured angrily at the burn. She locked eyes with Maxson. "Can you cut it out for me, Arthur?"

She held out the knife to him with a look of entreaty in her brilliant green eyes.

"Max… I …" Maxson stumbled over the words, his piercing eyes uncertain as they flicked between the ugly brand and Maxs eyes.

"It's OK," She said. "It can wait. Dylan can do it for me. Sorry, I shouldn't have asked you."

"No," He said, as she started to carefully tug her trousers back up over the stinging burn. "I'll do it."

He had a look of set determination on his face. He was becoming more and more superfluous on this trip. His role wouldn't really kick in until he reached the Mojave and he could do this small thing for his … friend? He loved her more and more every day, but she really didn't return his feelings, he accepted it now… She was his friend and she was in pain. He could do this.

She gave him a heart melting smile and bought her pants down again and sat down on the ground next to him. He knelt next to her and bought the knife to hover over the brand. Looking at the offensive mark made him angry and he decided in that moment, that his first act as High Elder for the Brotherhood of Steel, would be to eradicate the Legion, right to the last man.


	40. Chapter 40

**AN: Such a long wait for such a filler chapter. Sorry ya'll, I need to think up the next bit, but didn't want to leave ya hangin'.**

 **Chapter 40 - Moving on**

The decisions were made for them.

The former slaves began to mechanically pack up the camp as soon as the sky began to lighten in the morning, like they had done it a million times before. They neatly and efficiently piled up the bodies of the dead, folded up the tents and stacked the furniture. Everything was packed up and loaded onto a small heard of Brahmin and heavy back frames.

The East Coasters had a chance to resupply themselves but after what seemed like no time at all, the ladies were trooping back up the road towards Sulphur Springs. Max received a tearful goodbye from Ness and Alice and murmured thanks from some of the others but other than that, they just left and they took the four Legion captives with them…

The seven travellers watched them go, a little perplexed but also a little relieved that they didn't have to make any decisions and hard choices themselves. They watched them go until they rounded a bend and were out of sight, a melancholy wagon train of women and girls going to claim a new home.

Max was the first to turn from them and walk in the other direction. She took point and expected her team to follow. They did.

They had walked for maybe two hours when Max suddenly stopped in the road and swore to herself.

"I forgot about Tiberius Curia." She grated as the Courier came to her side to see what was wrong. She looked up into his face and grimaced. "I left him tied to a chair in their interrogation hut…"

"Dead?"

"No, but in a significant amount of pain." She said with a frown. "I should go back."

"He the one who branded you?" Courier asked darkly.

Max nodded.

"Leave him, he'll die soon enough."

She shook her head. "Nah, I've gotta go back. I'm not a monster. I'll go and put a bullet in him and then I'll be back."

"Nope." Courier took her arm as she started to go. "BOONE. Go back and shoot the slave master!" He shouted to the Sniper at the rear of the group. Boone nodded and turned to jog back up the road to the deserted camp. Courier looked back down at Max. "It's good for him." He shrugged, before motioning her to continue onwards and he took up the rear guard.

They swapped out positions in the early afternoon. MacCready took point and Max fell back to rear guard and the Courier blended back into the group. They swapped out again much later and the Courier had to take point. Boone had not returned. From her position in the group Max began to worry that something had happened to him. They had veered off the main road and followed a path continuing west based on intel that the boys had received before leaving Sulphur Springs.

They were looking for a campsite when Max caved and looked Boone up on her pipboy. He was within range but she was hesitant to call on him. They'd had a brief rendezvous in the equivalent to bathroom and she wasn't sure if she was entitled to check up on him.

She glared at the words on screen… 'Craig Boone Pipboy'… she looked forwards to the Courier. He seemed unconcerned, no one seemed concerned. She let it go with a clench of her jaw.

They found a sheltering overhang opposite a resilient road sign that proclaimed that they were on Trough Road. They started on their camp setup routine and began to settle in for the night. They were given their watch roster. MacCready got to sleep through and Max was on watch with Zac from midnight.

It was close to change of shift when Boone came wandering up the road whistling to himself. It sounded like 'Ain't that a kick in the head' by Dean Martin but it was a little discordant. They had to remember not to ask Boone to join a sing-a-long when one next started up. Max had him in the night vision sight of Nevasee as he approached and she was surprised to see the look of contentment on his face. She had only seen that face once before and it was very recently… in the showers… after they had been intimate.

She raised her eyebrow and lowered her rifle, nudging Zac to let him know it was just Boone. He walked with a casual, unhurried air of someone out on an evening stroll. It was very strange. Max had a sudden vision of him meeting a lady out on the road… she felt a surge of… something… at the thought.

He came to stand in front of the two on watch, his face unreadable, as usual.

"You took your sweet time." Zac observed quietly. "I thought you were just supposed to shoot him, or did you have trouble finding us again?"

Boone shrugged. "Talked first." He turned to Max with a look of admiration. "You do good work." He said, referring to her 'interrogation'.

She gave a tight smile.

"Remind me not to piss you off." He said before walking over to his blanket.

* * *

They made it back to the I70 by the next night. Courier became their third sniper for the day as Boone had insisted on sitting watch with the Courier from four and he had only had about an hours sleep over a couple of days. Courier had overruled his insistence that he could walk point as well. He was grumpy. He was more grumpy than usual.

Max finally got the opportunity to walk next to him in the pack for the first time ever. MacCready was on point. Courier trailed behind and Cade, Maxson and Zac were involved in a heated discussion involving a lot of arm waving, finger pointing and Zac bursting out laughing periodically.

Boone walked in sullen silence behind the trio and Max walked quietly by his side. They had been walking in silence ever since the snipers had switched out positions and it was now nearing dusk.

"So…" She nudged him with her elbow trying to engage him in conversation and earned an annoyed glare from behind his sunglasses. Max frowned to herself. It was like he hadn't even realised that she was there and that she was somehow intruding. He had this way of disappearing into his head while his body kept on going. She gave an impatient shake of her head.

"Forget it." She muttered, as she quickened her steps and joined the boys in front of her. Cade smiled at her and put his arm around her shoulders as she came up to his side.

"Smooth, dude." Courier mumbled to his friend from the rear. Boone sighed.

The junction where they rejoined the I70 was not uninhabited. There was a derelict cluster of buildings and a large group of raiders manning the site. MacCready halted the group in the gathering afternoon shadows and they all crouched together looking down at the place.

"We could go around them." Cade said hopefully.

"We all know that's not going to happen." Zac grinned at him and patted him on the shoulder. Cade shrugged of his hand with a glare.

"Well, excuse me for thinking about your sorry hide." Cade grated. Zac and Cade had been arguing all day and Zac was revelling in winding him up as much as possible.

Zac snorted and began prodding him in the arm with his index finger over and over. Cade slapped his hand away.

"If you two don't stop it, I'll put you both over my knee." Courier said roughly, glaring at them. He squinted down at the raider camp. "Lots of hides around here. Snipers on either side, pick off as many as you can. We go in and tidy up. We have a good sleep, take their shit and move on in the morning. Good Plan?"

They all nodded and dispersed. Max snuck along the eastern perimeter and was surprised when she realised that Boone was with her, MacCready had gone in the other direction, while the others waited for an opportunity to strike. Max found herself a likely nest with a good line of sight and jammed two good sized sticks, crisscrossed, into the ground for her to lay her rifle barrel on. She lay down on her belly and looked through her scope. Boone lay down next to her and set up his station as well.

The ensuing firefight went pretty much as they expected it would. Maxs silent rifle took out a flock of raiders before anyone in the camp even realised what was happening, then Boone and MacCready joined in. Zac, Maxson, Cade and the Courier began the ground assault with the snipers picking off stragglers and those that chose to flee.

Mac watched through her scope as the Courier, Maxson, Zac and Cade waved the all clear and MacCready came out of hiding. She started to gather up her gear when Boones hand came down on her arm.

She looked over at him and met his eyes, his mouth was open like he was going to say something but then he gave a negligible shake of his head instead and took his hand away, closed his mouth and pressed his lips into their familiar grim line.

"What?" Max asked, her temper flaring.

He made to stand up but Max grabbed his arm and roughly pulled him down into the dirt again.

"What?" She asked again. "What do you want to say?"

Boone swallowed, his adams apple bobbing nervously as he looked into her green eyes.

"Well?" She said expectantly.

"I… You smell different." He said hesitantly, dropping his eyes to her hand clutching onto his arm. She saw the muscle working furiously in his jaw before he looked back into her eyes. He lifted his own hand and slowly ran a single digit softly down the length of her face, from her temple to the tip of her chin. "You can use my water if you want to wash your hair…" He mumbled watching the path of his finger.

Of the things that she had expected him to say, that was not even close to the top ten. She wasn't sure what to say to that.

"You are so strange." She heard herself say before standing up and offering her hand to him.

She hauled him to his feet and went to press a kiss on his cheek in thanks of the odd but endearing offer.

Boone turned his head towards her at the last moment before her lips made contact and Max found herself kissing his mouth, however briefly. They flinched back from each other in shock and stared at each other for a moment before Boone pressed his hand to her cheek and claimed her lips firmly with his.

He wrapped his other hand around her waist and encouraged her closer and she pressed against him, her arms wrapping around the snipers neck pulling him down and deepening their kiss and embrace.

They broke apart breathlessly after a long while and looked almost shyly at each other. Max gave a nervous laugh and wondered at this guy. They had been engaged in some seriously pornographic activities only a few days ago and now they couldn't even share a simple kiss without a heap of awkwardness.

Boones forehead creased in a frown and he took a deep breath. "I'm stupid." He said shortly. "I can't …. talk…" He stopped and looked helplessly at her.

Max shrugged her shoulders. "It's OK."

"No, it's not." Boone was struggling. "I want to say stuff, but I don't know how anymore. I'm messed up."

Boone took his aviators off and looked her in the eye. He never had a problem with looking people in the eye.

"I want to talk to you." He started again articulating every word. "I want to know you better."

Max nodded with a smile. "Would you find it easier if we were in the group? Or if we were alone?"

"I don't know." He growled in frustration and looked back at her with entreaty in his light green eyes. "Please don't lose patience with me."

"Boone." She said his name reassuringly. "I'll get Courier to assign us watch together and we'll work on it."

"Just talking," Boone nodded. "…for now." He gave a small fleeting smile and hefted his rifle onto his shoulder and started picking his way down the slope to the liberated raider camp and the rest of their waiting group.

Max smiled widely at his retreating back. "For now."


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41 – Big Ole Teddy Bear**

Boone had been told to sleep through the night. He and the Courier had argued about it for some time. Boone had stomped off to his blankets and flopped down on them like a petulant child. He was, of course, fast asleep in minutes.

Max sat watch with Cade and they spend most of their time either talking sombrely about Maxs brief captivity or giggling over inconsequential things. They found themselves talking about the chem that was used to drug them at Sulphur Springs and the differing effect it had on Max in comparison to the guys. It had worked fast on her and had lasted only a couple of hours, but the guys were lulled to sleep slowly and had slept through the whole night. They still weren't sure what had been used on them.

Maxson and MacCready took over at midnight and Max sought her blankets gratefully.

Boone had to be awoken in the morning and he was somewhat sheepish about it. He really did need the rest. The Courier had a smug expression on his face. He was always right.

They set out from the former raider camp the next morning restocked and refreshed and ready for whatever the wasteland had in store for them. The I70 followed the path of the Eagle River, which would eventually meet up with the Colorado. At least the road would have… if it didn't suddenly disappear under a mass of water and undergrowth. The I70 had long been overrun in this part of the mountains, the river had changed course and nature had finally had enough of her confines and spread herself out over the landscape. The road was still visible, cracked and scattered tracts of asphalt in between the green coating of weeds and grass and some attempts had been made to mark out a path through the sudden wilderness. The group followed it diligently, though they were soon surrounded by vision impairing trees and thick brush.

They walked on cautiously, Max on point. They spread themselves out as far as they dared, making sure to keep in eyeline of each other as well as on the undergrowth. They stopped for lunch on the banks of the river, where Max discovered that the water of the Eagle was rad free. She took the opportunity to rinse out her hair and lather it with her carrot flower scented serum, aware that there was a set of eyes on her the whole time.

They set out again and Max was in the pack walking next to Zac, a past time she found herself actually enjoying. He was smart and funny… well, at least he thought he was funny, and the more she got to know him, the more similarities between them she found. Their individual stories were startlingly similar. He had left his vault to find his dad. She, to find her son. The outside world was shocking to them both but they both bucked expectations and succeeded where others would simply roll into a ball and cry… or worse, die horribly.

The group walked carefully through a small clearing in the dense bush and for the first time during that day, they got a glimpse of the sky.

A low rumbling growl suddenly filled the air around them, seeming to reverberate through the whole area and the group collectively froze, drew weapons and began scanning the forest for whatever had made the deeply disturbing sound. They didn't need to wait long for it to reveal itself.

A Yao Guai the size of a bull elephant lumbered into the small clearing from the other side and it was not happy to have these creatures stinking up his hunting ground. Grizzlies were not the smallest of creatures to begin with but these ones, mutated by radiation and more than two hundred years of survival, had transformed into terrifying behemoths. Aggressive and territorial Behemoths. The group blinked in surprise at it.

It seemed to look at each of the little humans in turn before deciding on who to maul first. It's eyes fell on Dylan Cade and with speed belying its size, it charged at him. Cade stumbled back into the treeline and everyone else open fired. The beast rammed into the trees that Cade had darted into, shaking the very ground with it's passage but with its prey now out of reach, it whirled on those that remained. The ones who were peppering it with painful little darts of hot lead. The next on the list was Zac, who danced out of the way with catlike grace, the Perforator rattling in his hand and 5.56 rounds whizzing through the air and lodging themselves deeply into the flesh of the now enraged animal. The mutated bear then wheeled on Boone. Then MacCready and Max. Max discarded her ballistic weapons, they weren't doing any good anyway, she drew her machete from the loop in her belt and sent a powerful overhand blow to the monsters outstretched paw. It roared in pain as the blade bit deep in between in vast claws and pulled back from her, ripping the lodged machete from her hands in doing so.

"Oh shit." She swore and darted back for the treeline. The giant Yao Guai lumbered after her. Apparently these guys held grudges, he all but ignored the other six people swarming around him and wanted the woman that had injured its foot. MacCready was batted out of the way like a rag doll and he went twirling through the air like a dervish, coming to an abrupt and sickening stop when his body struck a tree and thudded to the forest floor with no sign of life.

The unarmed Max screamed like woman possessed as she watched her friend fall and whirled on the giant creature, but pulled up short when she saw the Courier clinging onto the monsters back, driving a combat knife into the side of its neck over and over again. The animal tried to shake him off but its struggles became weaker with every strike and the undergrowth was being splashed and painted with hot red blood as the pair tussled. The Yao Guai gave one last heave to try and shake the man from his back before slumping forward onto the ground with a quaking crash. It moaned and twitched on the ground as the Courier regained his footing on solid ground and calmly retrieved his hat from the undergrowth where it had fallen, drew his Sequoia and emptied it into the creatures head until it was still.

Max ran for MacCreadys still form in the underbrush and fell to her knees by his side.

"Dylan." She called desperately, her voice raw.

'Here." Proctor Cade was on MacCreadys other side and working on him, he had a wound on his head that dripped blood persistently down his face, but he ignored it as he sought to revive RJ.

"Max, move." The Courier picked her up bodily and moved her out of the way, taking her place to help Cade with MacCreadys care. He was drenched with giant Yao Guai blood.

Max stumbled back and someone caught hold of her… she wasn't sure who, didn't really care who. RJ was what mattered. He was her best friend… why else would she put up with his shit? Oh God, if he dies Curie would be devastated. Why did I drag him along, so far from home? This is my fault.

"Sit down, Max." A soft voice whispered in her ear. Zac had hold of her. "Before you fall down. They've got him, he'll be fine. We need to look at your arm"

As if in reply to Zacs words, MacCready moved and groaned on the ground. Max let out a breath in relief and looked at Zac in thanks.

"What's wrong with my arm?" She asked blankly, shifting her gaze to her right arm, "it looks fine."

Zac smiled gently. "That one is… Sit down."

Maxson was there now too. The two men lowered her to the ground, though she resisted and once there Maxson began to undo the bindings on her armour and Zac began rifling through his pack. Max looked at her left arm and was surprised to see a gaping and bloody wound encompassing her entire bicep, the muscle torn through and parts of it hanging from her like dripping steaks.

Zac looked closely at the wound with a scowl, pulling his belt off and made a tourniquet of it.

"I'm gonna have to stitch this, so it'll heal right." Zac said digging in his pack and drawing out Med-ex, a small bottle of whiskey and a Medical kit.

"Where's Boone?" Max asked, as Maxson cut away the sleeve of her jacket with his knife. His hands were so soaked in her blood that it looked like he was wearing shiny red gloves. She chaffed a little when her sleeve came away... She was going to have to fix that now… God Damnit!

"He's guarding the perimeter while we work on you guys… he's fine." Zac informed her as he threaded a needle with fine nylon thread.

Zac picked up the Med-ex syringe and Max shook her head.

"You can't use Med-ex on me." She advised him. "My system can't handle it, I'll OD and either die or go into a coma."

Zac frowned. "This'll hurt."

"It'll be better than dying. Just give me something to bite on and hold me down." She said wincing, she was beginning to feel it now, the adrenalin had subsided and she recognised the shock she was in.

Maxson picked up a solid stick and wrapped it in a semi clean rag, Max took it between her teeth and nodded at Zac that she was ready. Zac took a deep breath and Maxson wrapped his arms around her holding her securely to him. Zac poured a good measure of whiskey over the wound and Maxs teeth clamped down hard on the stick and her jaw locked. She gave a muffled scream around her gag and convulsed in Maxsons arms. Her eyes watered from the pain of the alcohol searing every crease and crevasse of the horrible jagged gash. She felt Arthur lay his cheek onto the top of her head and hold her tighter to keep her still. Cold water followed, and Zac cleaned the minced flesh as best he could. He then took up the needle. Courier came over then to help. He held the pieces of muscle together while Zac stitched with quick, controlled motions while Max writhed on the ground. It seemed like an eternity of torture, she wished she had been able to take her mind away, like she had been trained too. She wished she could faint, but she didn't, she stayed lucid the whole long agonising time.

They finally finished up and injected her with stimpaks and wrapped the wound tightly with gauze.

"If that one doesn't scar, I'll eat my hat." Courier said with a smile, patting her on the good arm.

"I have scars." She defended herself shakily as Maxson wiped her face clear of blood and tears. She felt suddenly tired and lightheaded.

"You have _a_ scar," said the heavily scarred Elder. "and it doesn't really count if no one gets to see it."

"Only very special people get to see it." She said with a warm smile to the young man.

"I'm pretty special." Zac said with raised eyebrows. He knew where the scar was.

"Zac, special doesn't even come close to describing what you are." Max said with a roll of her eyes, before glancing at the Courier. "Where's RJ?"

"He's OK, he confused Cade for Curie and kissed him." Courier advised her with a soft smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Cade is now in love and planning the wedding. Apparently, it was a very good kiss."

"That's nice, I'm happy for the two of them." She murmured sleepily.

Boone stalked back into the clearing. He lay his eyes on Max first, making sure she was OK and being taken care of and after what looked like a sigh of relief, went to hunker down next to his fellow male sniper. Max watched him bat away MacCreadys outstretched hand with a grimace that _could_ have been considered _slightly_ amused. RJ was obviously pretty out of it, to see Curie in every face. He must be missing her like crazy and it made Max feel guilty all over again.

"Why won't things just leave us alone." Max sighed with her eyes still on her friend. "Just for a little while… twenty four hours without slavers, raiders or giant mutated animals crossing our path, that's all I want."

Courier sighed as well. "Boone and I didn't have this much trouble on the way to the Commonwealth." He acknowledged.

"It's late enough to stop and we're not going anywhere with MacCready snogging everyone anyway" Zac said, fastening the buckles on his pack. "We can't stay the night next to this mountain of meat." He nodded towards the giant Yao Guai. "I'll scout out and find us a camp site."

Courier clapped him on the shoulder and stood up with him. He walked over to the mutated bear and began to butcher a few big cuts from the corpse, they wouldn't go hungry as least, as Zac disappeared into the treeline. Max leaned back into Maxson who was still holding onto her and she felt her eyes drooping closed.

She woke up in her own blankets in their new camp a mile or so from the bear corpse. Boone was sleeping soundly in the bed roll next to her. She wondered what was next as she prodded at the bandaging on her arm, and why was it that the Courier and Zac never seemed to end up bleeding?

 **AN:This is pretty much filler too. Ah well, I'll think of something shortly...**


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42 – Separate Ways**

They spent a couple of days in their idyllic little camp that Zac had found for them on the banks of the Eagle River as MacCready and Max recovered and they resolved to set out again as soon as RJ stopped seeing two of everyone.

Max approached the Courier on the morning that they were due to depart.

"Hope you have some salt handy." She grinned at him, "Wouldn't want that hat to go down without some seasoning." She showed off her perfectly unscarred bicep.

"How in gods name do you do that?" He grunted, running his calloused fingers over the smooth skin of her arm.

She shrugged and began to pull on her repaired leather jacket over her shoulders. "I'm a freak, what can I say? You should be glad I wasn't of the mind to put some caps on it." She gave a small smile before turning more serious. "What's in store for us today do you think?"

Courier grunted again and looked out across the river. "We should be reaching the Colorado River today, I think." He mused, half to himself. "There're traders there apparently, or a settlement of some kind."

"Be nice to talk to someone who isn't trying to kill us for a change." She smiled and patted him on the shoulder before hurrying off to argue with Zac when she spotted him trying to sneak a few of his things into her pack for her to carry for him.

A moment later, Boone came up to stand silently by the Courier and looked out at the picturesque river as well and they listened to the General and the Sentinel bicker for a while.

Courier didn't look at him. "It's not my fault." He justified with a sigh, "… and there won't be a need to set a watch tonight if our intel is accurate. Tomorrow night I'll put the two of you together… I promise."

Boone nodded and walked away and the Courier wondered how exactly he managed to become the bloody matchmaker for the group.

* * *

As predicted they found a small collection of buildings clustered together on the banks of the two converging rivers. The Eagle from the east and the Colorado from the north. The two water courses clashed and roiled about at the junction before surging west. The Colorado River was familiar to both Boone and the Courier, much further downstream the river pooled at Lake Mead before meandering south to eventually empty into the Gulf of California.

The Courier figured they only had about six hundred miles to go before the lights of New Vegas began to glimmer in the distance. It was still a goodly ways to go, but soon he would begin to recognise familiar landmarks and roads. It would be good to get home.

The team stopped for the night at the settlement, strangely called Turtletub, named from the remnants of a pre war billboard. Max assumed that the signage was advertising an old world attraction of some kind and from the faded picture depicting merry children floating down the river on inner tubes, she could easily guess what it was.

There was a welcoming looking saloon, a general mercantile and a bunkhouse as well as a fenced Brahmin pen which currently housed two of the mooing beasts, nibbling on fodder in the afternoon sun. The group fanned out. Courier and Boone went to the bunkhouse to get accommodation for them all and the other boys invariably descended on the bar. Max watched them all go and instead wandered over to the riverbank and took a seat on the stony ground to watch the Eagle violently join up with the Colorado.

She frowned as her gaze fell on the rickety looking bridge that traversed the Colorado, it didn't look very stable but she supposed if the Brahmin could use it, then there was no reason that a few humans couldn't as well. She wasn't sure how long she sat there but she jumped a little when a hand came down from above her, dangling a cold, dewy beer bottle in front of her eyes.

She took it and looked over as Maxson settled himself next to her on the ground.

"You know I'm not a great drinker, Arthur." She smiled as she raised the bottle to her lips, sighing as the cold brew slid mercifully down her parched throat.

"One won't hurt and I'm here to keep watch on you just in case you get out of hand." He smiled and took a long drink from his own bottle.

"I actually bought you one as well." MacCreadys voice sounded from behind them and he flopped down on the ground on Max's other side. "I won't keep watch though, I'll just sit here and laugh at you." He added with a grin, holding out a second beer to her.

She took the second one and nestled it between her knees as she concentrated on her first.

"How are the wedding plans coming?" Max asked facetiously. Maxson looked over at MacCready with a grin on his face.

"Oh, for fu… I had a head injury." He rolled his eyes. "Cade should be so lucky."

The three of them sat in silence for a while, smiling and enjoying their beers in the late afternoon sun.

"I don't like the look of that bridge…" Maxson observed in an offhand kind of way, his eye on the offending piece of architecture.

"Just thinking that myself." Max murmured in agreement.

Cade came up and sat next to Maxson as they critiqued the state of the bridge and handed out another round of drinks that he had carried over from the bar. Zac plopped himself down next to MacCready.

"They don't have a jukebox." He complained to no one in particular. He tipped back his beer, discarded the empty bottle and reached for another. "That bridge doesn't look very inspiring." He said.

Max and Maxson grinned at each other.

Courier and Boone joined them, Boone leaned over, reached down and took the beer from in between Maxs knees and knocked it back.

"Hey." She protested. He ignored her and squatted down into the dirt with his pilfered beverage.

Cade handed the Courier a brew and the group sat around in companionable silence.

"Why exactly are we all out here?" Courier finally asked.

"I came here for some alone time." Max advised him with a smile.

"Ah… how'd that work out for you?" He asked as he lifted his bottle to his lips.

"This is better." She said, draping her arm around RJ's shoulders.

"That bridge looks shit." Courier stated with a grunt.

* * *

The day dawned with flash of angry lightening and the deep menacing roll of thunder.

The team resupplied and packed up a little more slowly that they normally would. It had something to do with the drinks the evening before, a few beers by the riverside turned into many in the bar. Zac and the Courier had started on the bourbon and Zac had spent most of the night breaking into song and the rest of the time trying to get Max to dance with him. And it also had a little to do with the prospect of marching in a down pour. They had been lucky until now, the weather had been relatively kind for the duration of their journey and it looked like that was all about to change.

Zac Hobson glared out at rain that had started to patter and puddle in the yard out the front of the Bunkhouse and turned the burbling rivers into a raging torrent of ugly, brown tinted water. He was normally a good humoured and upbeat kind of guy but this morning, nursing a killer hangover, he really didn't give a fuck. He was especially pissed off that the Courier seemed to have no ill effects from the night before, despite consuming an equal amount of alcohol. Bastard!

Zacs pack was heavy. He had acquired some great and amusing things on the trip so far but he was disappointed that no one was going to help him carry it all, despite his attempts to persuade them otherwise. He would need to cull his collection if he wanted to continue on without suffering back strain or some other weight carrying debilitation. He sorted through his gear in surly silence.

Legion helmet… didn't need that. Dog fur armband… didn't need it. Yellow smiley face badge… essential. Red rimmed sunglasses, also essential. Alarm clock… not essential, but you never know when one might come in handy.

He sorted his stuff into two piles and restuffed his pack, leaving the slightly larger pile sitting on the bunk. He looked forlornly at the bright pink ascot tie that he had stripped off a raider, before gathering up the not needed pile and carting it to the store to try and at least get some caps for it all.

He met the rest of his team as he came out of the mercantile with a few paltry caps in his pocket for all of his treasures. His pack _was_ much lighter though. He was very happy when he saw both MacCready and Maxson squinting painfully against the dim morning light. At least he wasn't the only one.

They moved out. Boone taking point and leading them towards the bridge, the guy had bought himself a new tee shirt to replace the holey, blood stained one but had made no other allowances for the inclement weather. Zac caught Max looking appreciatively at the sniper as the rain water drenched him in the first few seconds and his shirt began to cling to his lean muscular torso. Zac snorted and started out into the rain with Maxson and MacCready at his side, like the three miserable musketeers. Cade and Courier were behind them, the two of them always had grown up conversations about medicine and crap. Looks like they were settling in for another old man talk about weeds and such again. Old man... Courier was only four years older than Zac.

Max bought up the rear. She had been relaxed the night before. She had stopped at the one beer, enough to take the edge off and get her in good humour, but not quite enough for her to get silly. MacCready had said it didn't take much for her to get stupid and he remembered her trudging through Beta Bunker after having a couple of glasses of wine with Dekker. She had looked like death warmed up that morning.

Zac felt like a drowned radrat by the time they made it to the bridge over the Colorado River, every part of him was sopping wet and cold.

Boone stepped confidently onto the weathered and slippery boards and trooped out without a backwards glance or any concern about the roaring floodwaters a few feet below him, the hungover trio and the two old men followed though they all cast doubtful looks down at the sad looking bridge under their feet. Max stepped on a second later and the bridge made a disconcerting groaning sound that halted them all in their tracks. Was the combined weight of all seven of them too much for the rickety bridge? How much did a fully loaded Brahmin weigh?

Boone looked back at them, shrugged and walked on. The rest followed hesitantly, being very careful where they put their feet. Boone made it to the other side and turned to watch the rest of the groups progress with an impatient look on his face.

It would have all gone well if the lone wanderers foot hadn't gone through one of the old, rotted boards... it was like a domino effect from there.

He fell sideways, jarring his hip on the railing, which crumbled under his weight. His flailing limbs knocked Maxson backwards into MacCready who both fell hard onto the bridge with a crash, taking out the Courier as they went down. Cade reached out from behind them to try and catch Zac as he fell. He got hold of his arm, but lost his footing on the wet, slimy boards. He skittered towards the edge trying to find purchase anywhere to stop the forward progression into the swirling torrent. Max lunged forwards and grabbed hold of Cade just before he went over the edge with Zac, wrenching her arm right out of her shoulder socket. She cried out but didn't let go. The collective mass of the two men pulled her over the edge with them and they, all three, splashed into the swollen and dangerous river below.

Boone scrambled back onto the bridge and skidded to the edge searching the muddy water for his three team members, but more importantly, Max. He dropped his pack and rifle and was about to dive into the perilous water when a strong arm captured him from behind and dragged him back.

"Don't be so bloody stupid." The Courier shouted at him, stooping to pick up Boones pack and shoving his rifle at him. Maxson and MacCready helped haul him off the bridge. The four men ran to the edge of the river and scanned the fast flowing water for any sign of their missing team members.

"Down stream." Courier shouted, breaking out into a bruising run, his eyes focused on the bubbling brown river.


	43. Chapter 43

**AN: Not much spelling or grammar checking going on lately sorry. Slack as. Remember to review and whatever, keep me on track.**

 **Chapter 43 – The Trio**

Her right arm was limp and hanging uselessly at her side. Her teeth chattered with the bone deep cold and bewildering shock, but that wasn't the problem. The two waterlogged men were heavy and with only one arm, she fought with shaking hands to pull them both up the bank and out of the silty, rough water of the Colorado River.

The three of them had clung to each other as they were dragged down the raging watercourse. They had almost avoided the submerged rocks as they tried in vain to make it over to one of the seemingly unreachable shores. They had done well to keep in some semblance of control until Cade was torn from their grasping hands and pulled into the path of a cluster of boulders and smashed into them with force. Zac had been dragged under by a rip as Max pulled the proctor into her arms to keep his barely conscious body afloat and Max was scared that they had lost the lone wanderer until he bobbed to the surface again further downstream.

After what seemed like hours of nonstop battling and terror in the flood waters, they had eventually come to a calm, wide section of the river where Max was finally able to conquer the currents and grab hold of Zac by the scruff of the neck and pull him to relative safety and Cade had been weakly holding onto her, struggling on his own to stay conscious.

But Cade was out now, finally succumbing to darkness when they were out of the worst danger. Max had him half in and half out of the now shallow waters, he was breathing and calm so she left him to it. Zac was not OK. He was slightly blue and if he was breathing, it was so shallow that she could not detect it. She pulled him onto the shore as best as she could and tried to force the water from his lungs and get them working on processing air. She was distraught as she worked on him and cried out in relief when he began to splutter and cough up pints of dirty river water.

Max painfully dragged the two men, one at a time, up the bank and collapsed in exhaustion, cradling her dislocated shoulder and gasping for breath.

She needed to get them warm, she needed to get herself warm. There was nothing on this side of the river to use as shelter, not even a rocky overhand or bank of trees, they were completely exposed and the storm raged on around them.

She lugged her companions over to a depression between two boulders and unpacked their blankets. They were all about to get very cosy. With two blankets under them to protect them from the cold ground and one on top to protect them from the elements, she crawled in beside the two of them, sharing the small amount of body heat that they had between them, though they were still sodden. She was out cold in seconds despite her fighting to keep awake, someone needed to keep watch, she could have hypothermia and not wake up again… but she was done.

When she finally came to, the rain had stopped, the sun was peeking through the dissipating clouds and Zac was sitting nearby sorting through what gear they had. He looked up when he saw her moving.

"Cades still out, we need to set your shoulder." He said bluntly, rifling through a pack.

Max struggled to a sitting position and looked down at Cade with concern. He was still curled up next to her, tangled in their blankets. He was breathing well and the colour had returned to his face. He looked peaceful and she gently ran her hand over his forehead, checking his temperature, noting that Zac had already stitched the gash on his head closed and wiped any remaining blood away.

Zac crouched down next to her and looked into her eyes for a long time, his own bright blue orbs troubled.

"You saved my life." He said shortly, he looked down at the belt he held loosely in his hands and cleared his throat, before helping her out of her jacket so he could begin to examine her shoulder. The Lone Wanderer was unused to people putting their necks out for him, normally it was him putting his life on the line for others for little to no reward. "You and Cade both." He thanked her, in his own way, a smile coming back to his eyes.

He cleared his throat again, he did swallow a lot of river water after all and his throat was sore.

"After I set it… I'll have to strap your arm down." He said with a more business like tone.

Max smiled and nodded, readying herself.

He lay the belt down on the stony shore and began to prod at her shoulder. When he had figured out which way he needed to move the bone back into the joint, he took hold of her upper arm and braced himself against her.

"Ready? On three. One…"

Crunch! He yanked on her arm and pressed back on her shoulder at the same time with all of his upper body strength and the bone slid back into place. Max hissed out her breath between clenched teeth and glared at him.

"What happened to two and three?" She ground out, clasping her throbbing shoulder protectively.

He shrugged as her looped the belt around her wrist and secured her arm close to her chest. He used a stimpak on her, patted her on her good arm and moved over to Cades side. He squatted down next to him and patted him lightly on the cheek.

"Cummon buddy, nap time's over" He whispered, coaxing Cade out of his slumber, as Max rubbed her shoulder and grumbled about how much of a dick he was.

Cades eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Zac dazedly.

"What's going on?" Cade slurred in confusion, his brown eyes batting like a southern belle.

"You faceplanted into a rock, I drowned and Max tried to tear her arm off and then we all slept together." Zac informed him drily.

"Oh." Cade blinked, trying to process what Zac had said.

Max sat down next to him, she was fiddling around with her pipboy.

"I'm not picking up any of the others… how far do you think we've come?"

Zac looked down at his pipboy and frowned, he shook his wrist forcefully and looked back at it. Then he hit it a few times and swore.

"My pipboy's broken." He glowered at the offending item, looking desolate.

Max looked at him sympathetically and accessed her mapping function. "I haven't been keeping up to date with my mapping… I didn't log Turtletub."

Cade unbuckled his pipboy from around his wrist and handed it to Zac. "You can have mine." He said, "you've had yours since you were a kid and I've only had mine for a few months, you'll get more use out of it than me."

Zac blinked at the gesture and took the pipboy from Cade. Max smiled at the misting in Zacs eyes but pretended not to notice.

"We'll keep yours though, and fix it later." Cade said encouragingly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Zac swapped out the pipboy and shoved his broken unit into his pack. He waited for it to boot up and adjust to him. He cleared his throat again and looked down at his feet. He must have swallowed a heap of water for him to have to keep doing that.

"Thanks man… I wouldn't feel right without it. Been wearing it since I was ten." Zac didn't meet Cades eyes, but rather watched the screen as it cycled through its start up.

Zac flicked through the applications of his borrowed pipboy and stopped on the mapping system and his eyes opened wide. Cades mapping was impeccable, nothing at all like the haphazard attempts Zac made. Everything was labelled and noted and cross referenced. Every stop they made every night and linked to their watch rosters. Every single incident logged, every raider, every legion patrol, every feral ghoul or mutated animal meticulously recorded.

"We're four point two miles downstream from Turtletub as the crow flies… there no reason that we shouldn't be picking up the others." He flicked through to the radio and sure enough, there were no signals.

"Maybe the water knock out our radios? You're not here either Max." He said with a frown. "I'm sure I've been in deeper and more irradiated water for longer and not had a pipboy problem before."

"Me neither." Max nibbled on her bottom lip.

Zac sighed. "We have to go back, Turtletub was our last recorded fallback point."

Cade grimaced "What if they think we're dead? What if they can't see our signals either and they think we didn't make it?"

"Courier would go back to the fallback to regroup." Zac insisted.

"Zac, we've only come four miles or so, they could run back a forth a few times in the time we've been gone, they would have tried to find us and with no signals to latch on to…" Max said shaking her head. "We go back and ask around, we wait a day, then we follow the I70 onwards… I don't know, maybe if we move at a fair clip, we catch up to them or find them on the road?"

Zac nodded, "But first we need to get on the other side of the river… got a bridge in your pocket?"

"Yes, because the last one worked out so well for us…" Max glanced at the river still roiling violently past them. "We can't swim that and I don't recall floating past a bridge... what are the odds that there's one just around the bend?"

"I think slim to none, there's nothing on this side" Zac said, looking around at the vast amount of nothing on their side of the river.

"There was a rope bridge over the Eagle about a mile before Turtletub." Cade suggested.

Zac clicked through to the map again and sure enough Cade had recorded the bridge on his map. Zac unclipped the pipboy from his wrist and handed it back to Cade. "I think you should be in charge of the pipboy… doesn't look like I deserve one." He said with a rueful look. "I'll get mine fixed soon enough." He waved Max away as she lifted her wrist in question. "Nah, you keep yours too, I'll live."

"OK so, we have a plan… What's our weapon and ammo situation like?." Max smiled as Cade attached his pipboy back to his wrist.

"I'm good. Perforator and laser pistol present and accounted for." Zac patted his guns to reiterate. "And my thirst zapper is in my pack."

"I lost the shotgun." Cade grimaced, "but I have my laser pistol."

"I've got the 10mm, dropped my rifle on the bridge." Max lamented. "I hope someone picked her up."

They packed up their supplies, which were in surprisingly good order considering and then the men helped Max to move her gun holster around so she could draw left handed. They started trooping back the way they had come, although this time by dry land.

They tried to keep the far bank in sight and chaffed when they had to divert away, hoping that they didn't miss catching sight of the rest of the group. It took them a couple of hours to get to the foot bridge over the Eagle. The route wasn't as straight forward as they had hoped, Zac was having trouble drawing full breaths after inhaling the Colorado River and Cade was still feeling the battering he had received by kissing the boulders. They were forced to climb in one instance that Max found almost intolerable with only one arm at her disposal. She'd had to pull off her improvised sling and use her arm, though the tendons were tight and painful. The guys had hauled her up the rock face and they'd had to stop for a few minutes to catch their breath and bind Maxs arm again.

They made it to their objective and cautiously crossed the small rope bridge and followed the river back towards Turtletub.

They stumbled into town and split up. Max to the mercantile, Zac to bunkhouse and Cade to the saloon and they each asked if their group had been back. All three proprietors had replied in the negative, the four boys hadn't returned. Zac bought three beds for the night and met his companions outside.

"We wait." He said resignedly as Max and Cade joined him

"We wait." Max nodded. "If they don't come back here within twenty four hours, we leave the following morning with the sunrise."


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44 - The Quartet**

The state of the bridge was the furthest things from their minds as they pounded across it. Four sets of sharp eyes scanned the flooding waterway for any sign of their team… of their friends, but all three of them seemed to have been devoured by the Colorado river.

They had covered nearly five miles of busting banks when the Courier pulled them up at an old world rest stop still littered with the shells of cars and trucks and there was a solid looking bridge that spanned the swelling Colorado River across from it. They found no trace of their missing members and as the Courier looked down at his pipboy he noted that their signals… all three of them, had gone. Cold dread in settled in the pit of his stomach.

Maxson and Boone were looking at their pipboys in disbelief as well, the only reason pipboys stopped transmitting was if they were broken, out of range or if the wearer was deceased and what were the odds that all three were broken?

MacCready watched their faces with a dawning realisation. He didn't have a pipboy anymore but he was capable of figuring out what their shared expressions meant.

Courier ran his hand over his eyes and dragging it down his face, rubbed forcefully at his stubbled chin. How far could the river have taken them? Could they have been carried for more than ten miles in the short time they had gone? Could they even survive ten miles or more of immersion in a turbulent and unforgiving river? He stared hard at the water below them, strewn with massive rocks and whole felled trees, the torrent of brown water tearing at even the heaviest and most steadfast of obstructions.

Maxson and Boone had struck off again along the riverbank, still searching for any sign in the water adn along the shores. MacCready looked at the Courier for guidance, hitching both his and Maxs rifle higher onto his shoulder.

"Are they gone?" He asked in a small voice.

"Their pipboys aren't transmitting…" The Courier replied, watching Maxson and Boone Scan the bank.

"So… they're gone." MacCready affirmed.

Courier was quiet for a moment, lost in thought. "No." He said finally and with conviction. "No, The Lone Wanderer and the Sole Survivor aren't going to be taken out by a little dip in the river… and Cade is surprisingly resilient for a Brotherhood Proctor too. They're alive."

MacCready looked at the swollen river uncertainly but nodded remembering a slightly younger Zac Hobson walking alone into vault eighty seven, through the caves of Little Lamplight. The Vault was infested with slavering supermutants and overflowing with burning radiation and he emerged unscathed with a tame supermutant in tow, the GECK under his arm and a wide, cheeky grin on his face. Cade had decades of experience in the field with the Brotherhood and medical training that was unsurpassed, he could look after himself as well. And Max… Max tamed the entire Commonwealth.

"They'll fall back to our last logged camp… that's the plan. We go back." Courier stated. He shouted for Boone and Maxson to return. They both ignored him.

"NOW!" He roared at them, causing MacCready to leap back from him.

Boone began to belligerently walk back as ordered, his jaw clenching and unclenching in suppressed fury. Maxson glanced at the Courier, the obstinate 'brotherhood' look on his face. But with a last glance back at the river he slowly returned, his eyes still boring into the murky water.

The Courier understood, the young guys best friend, pseudo father figure and his unrequited love interest were all missing, but they all needed to keep their heads.

As he watched the two despondent men approach at what seemed like a reluctant snails pace through the still steadily falling rain, Courier became vaguely aware of a deep rumbling sound that made the ground vibrate and shimmy. He held up his hand for Boone and Maxson to stop and they halted in their tracks, their looks questioning. Courier tilted his head to listen and his eyes flew wide open. He had time for his gaze to fly to the mountainside above him and to lunge for a surprised MacCready when a wall of mud and rock careened down on top of them.

Maxson grabbed onto the back of Boones collar and yanked him out of the way, they both stumbled back and scrambled away from the gushing landslip and watched in awe as Courier and MacCready were swallowed up in the deluge.

As the silt and debris settled across the road, the two startled survivors exchanged wide eyed looks before rushing to their feet and into the thick mush. Knowing it was still dangerous, still unstable, they leapt in headfirst and dug around in the detritus, looking desperately for their friends and calling out their names in straining voices.

They searched the murky depths of the slip and the surrounding area for hours, their eyes eventually falling on the still raging river next to them. Boone sat down heavily on the piles of muck, his head in his hands and Maxson stared vacantly out at nothing. The two of them were alone… of all the people to be stuck together.

After a while of stunned silence, Boone climbed resolutely to his feet. He hitched his rifle up over his shoulder and began walking back towards Turtletub in the clearing afternoon light.

"Cummon." He grunted shortly without looking back.

Maxson looked after him with a deep frown. "What about…?"

"Courier's fine… its dirt…" Boone snapped, and kept on walking.

Maxson nodded and strode to catch up with the surly sniper. The original plan was to fall back, Courier wanted them to fall back. Max, Zac and Cade would know to fall back,

The First Recon Sniper and the Brotherhood Elder simultaneously checked their pipboys and then let their wrists fall without comment. There was obviously something wrong with everyones pipboys. The only signals on display were 'Elder Maxson Pipboy' and 'Craig Boone Pipboy' and they both knew _that_ was a mistake.

They trudged back towards the settlement side by side in silence, the stormy skies had reflected the turbulence of their individual but parallel thoughts. The weather had now turned warm and the sun shone down mockingly from inbetween heavy watery clouds. It did nothing to lighten their sour dispositions. They were sodden and filthy and nervous, angry energy poured out of both of the men.

Maxson looked up from his dark contemplation and froze in the road… Really? He thought with incredulity. Could things really get any worse?

Boones rifle was in his hand, the bolt locked before Maxson could even think to react to the sudden presence of legionnaires and the three crimson clad men who faced the duo as they wandered off a side path and onto the I70 were almost as shocked. The first new comer was dead before they knew what was happening, Boones rifle booming like the thunder of the earlier storm. The other two were able to get their guns in their hands and fire before Boone could slide the bolt home for the second shot. Maxson had sent off a burst of automatic weapon fire and pelted the two remaining legionnaires with 5.56 rounds, leaving them twitching and bleeding into the mud.

"Goddammit." Boone growled as he dropped to his knees.

He kept his rifle clamped in his right hand and pressed his left hand to the blood soaked holes in his new tee shirt. Maxson knelt down next to the stricken sniper and pulled his hand away from the wounds to get a closer look at the damage and then quickly examined his back.

"Only one exit wound." Maxson informed him, pressing Boones hand back onto his torn bloody flesh. "I'm going to have to get the other bullet out."

Boone nodded and allowed Maxson to help him off the road into the relative shelter of a bank of trees. The both flicked on their pipboy lights to battle the gloom under the foliage. Noting that the daylight was fading as well. They had spent the whole day, first searching for Max, Zac and Cade and then for Courier and MacCready.

Maxson had only basic field training as a medic, every Brotherhood soldier did. He hoped it was enough to not botch up what Cade or Courier and probably Zac could probably do with their eyes closed. He was going to tear the tee shirt back from Boones chest, but Boone stopped him and wrenched the garment over his head. Maxson peered at the bloody holes, trying to figure out which one had not gone all the way through and was most possibly wedged against a bone. He dug through his pack and found the basic kit that Cade had assembled for each of them and put a steadying hand in Boones shoulder.

"Are you ready?"

Boone nodded and Maxson dug into the wound to search for the bullet. He was a little surprised by how stoic the Sniper was, barely uttering a sound or flinching at the intrusion. Maxson tried to move as quickly as possible. He found the bullet and after one failed attempt to remove it, the fragment slipping from his grasp to settle in its original location, he managed to pull the jagged piece of metal free, almost triumphantly. He took a moment to clean the wounds with alcohol, earning a hiss and a glare from Boone, before stitching the wounds closed, applying a stimpak and covering the area with gauze. He was quite proud of himself overall.

He rummaged in his pack again and found a Med-ex syringe. Before the sniper could argue, he had been stuck with it and the painkilling effects washed over him. He was tired, he hadn't eaten all day and the effects made him instantly drowsy as a result.

Maxson caught him as he swayed and leaned him up against a tree, he would be pissed when he woke, but Maxson knew they weren't going anywhere tonight, may as well let the guy sleep. They could argue about it in the morning.

In the morning, they would make it back to Turtletub. Cade, Zac and Max would all be there waiting and after they had a chance to catch up, Courier and MacCready would stroll into town as well. They would be on their way by noon. Maxson was sure of it.

He pulled their blankets from their respective packs and wrapped Boone up before laying him down on the ground. Maxson took up watch.

* * *

A thoroughly drenched RJ MacCready crawled up the shore on his hands and knees, coughing up gallons of water and mud. He collapsed face down in a patch of slimy weed, but didn't care to move once he was settled there.

Everything hurt… Ev-e-ry-thing!

His lungs burned, his heart had been beating so furiously as they had swept down river that he was sure that he had bruised the inside of his chest cavity and ever limb screamed at him from the exertion of battling the currents.

He managed to get his breathing back under control and weakly lifted his head off the ground to look about him.

The furious Courier was striding out of the Colorado River with a face looking like it was ready for a murder spree, water running from him as if it knew. If it were possible for a man to beat the shit out of a river, the Courier would be all over that. If he could face Mother Nature right now… that bitch would pay.

He came to a stop and glared down at the unoffending Major.

"You OK, kid?" He growled.

At MacCreadys inoffensive nod, the Courier lifted RJ up to a standing position by the back of his coat and held him there until MacCready regained his equilibrium.

"My pipboys not working right." He rumbled disgruntledly. "We did not go ten miles… I reckon it's the water or the mountains, but something's blocking the signals" He glared at the rocky walls that towered over them now, they'd need to climb to make it back to the road from this narrow beach.

"So, the others are probably alright then?" MacCready asked, glad to at least have some kind of confirmation instead of a flimsy hope.

"Yep, I'll eat my hat if they're not… Oh, for fucks sake!" Couriers hand went to his head and his face went dark again. "I've lost my fucking hat."

MacCreadys own hat was long gone too, but he guessed that he was not as attached to it as the Courier was to his. The Courier kept on swearing loudly as he stomped back to the river and glared at it for some sign of his battered and beloved cowboy hat. With one last emphatic expletive, Courier spun from the shore and stomped back.

"Let's go, kid. Weathers clearing and we should make it back to town either tonight or by morning. And then Turtletub can kiss my arse." Courier patted down his pockets and growled again… apparently, he'd lost his sunglasses too.

MacCready kept a respectful distance between them as he followed Courier up the steep bank. Hitching the straps for his and Maxs rifles onto a more comfortable position on his shoulders. Max would be happy he had picked up her rifle at least. He chose to leave his sunglasses in his pocket.

 **AN: Thanks to my Husband for a few ideas. Love you. Also, review and critique 'til your heart's content. Good or bad, I can take it, it may even change the direction of the story.**


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45 – Just Around the River Bend**

Arthur Maxson was awoken rudely with a rough kick to the shins.

"Wake up." Boone grunted.

He was still pretty angry about being drugged after Maxson had treated his bullet wounds. They'd had a tense, though strangely quite argument… that consisted mostly of glaring… when Boone had finally stirred to consciousness just past two in the morning. Boone had taken over watch then and Maxson had sought his blanket.

Maxson sat up quickly and scowled at the ungrateful sniper.

"Turtletub's not going anywhere." Maxson grated as he rolled free of his blanket and began to roll it up. He was forced to drop it and catch the food that came flying at him from the other side of their improvised camp, Boones idea of providing breakfast was almost as violent as anticipated. Maxson unwrapped the jerky without comment and took a bite, gnashing his teeth with more force than was necessary.

Boone was unpleasant and Maxson knew that everyone had difficultly engaging him, even Max. The only one that the guy responded to was the Courier. Being alone with him was a trial and Boone was actually right, though he didn't say as much. The sooner they got back to Turtletub and back with the rest of their team, the better.

Maxson was an entitled brat who put everyones safety at risk with his selfish quest for power. He had an massive crush on the General and Boone secretly sneered at the thought of the two of them together. It was a joke. He was just a kid and she was a woman. Boone was grudgingly thankful for the help in treating his wounds, but he just wanted to get this partnership over with.

They packed up the rest of the gear in silence and set out to cover the couple of miles back to town, it didn't take long but they were thwarted in reaching their ultimate destination by a raging river with no bridge to be found. There was some of the bridge, but the rest of it, the bit that mattered was no longer there. Both men wanted to roar in frustration as they looked longingly at the outbuildings of the town, so close and yet so very far out of reach.

In the distance, coming out of the bunkhouse, they saw a familiar figure and after a quick glance in the direction of the former bridge, the figure recognised them as well and began to jog over to the riverside.

"Hey, what's up?" Zac shouted brightly across the yawning divide.

"Is Max OK?" Maxson shouted back abruptly.

"Gee whizz Arthur, Cade will be touched by your concern…" Zac grinned.

Boone and Maxson both crossed their arms over their chests and glared across the river at the Lone Wanderer. He just grinned back at them, not needing to answer as both Max and Cade emerged from the bunkhouse behind him and spying him at the remains of the bridge, moved to join him to see what he was up to.

Max was first at his side, peering over the river at them, taking in the filthy state of the men and the twin bloody holes in Boones tee shirt.

"Are you alright?" She hollered across the void.

Boone nodded crisply, his jaw tight at the sight of her.

"Where's Courier? And RJ?" She shouted with concern plain in her voice

"They're coming." He shouted back.

Maxson looked at him sharply, but didn't say anything.

Max looked between the two men and frowned. Cade and Zac turned to her.

"OK so, what do we do now? I am not swimming again." Zac said emphatically, nodding towards the swollen river.

"We can't stay here indefinitely and who knows when the river will be passable here again." Cade added.

"We could go back over the Eagle and walk parallel to them on the other side until we find a place to cross over." Max suggested, drawing her eyes from the two silent men across the river, not liking the idea at all.

"Imagine how shit you'd feel if one of the groups was attacked and the other group couldn't help." Zac said unhelpfully.

"Well, what have you got then?" She snapped peevishly, as he read her mind. She couldn't provide more than cover fire with her 10mm, if only she had her rifle, she could pick off ferals or raiders from the other side of the river with ease.

"I've got nothing, but I was just saying…" Zac said with a grin.

She so wanted to punch him.

Maxson watched the exchange from across the river. "Zacs being a smartarse." He mumbled to his companion.

Boone grunted in agreement, his eyes boring into Max from beneath his shades. She wasn't moving right, her right shoulder was tight. She was injured.

The trio turned back to the duo.

"We can follow the Colorado from the other side. You guys take the I70 and we can meet up again as soon as we find a safe place to cross." Max shouted.

"There's a bridge about five miles down." Maxson supplied.

Max and Zac exchanged an almost amused look.

"There was a bridge right around the bend." Max huffed in exasperation.

"What are the odds?" Zac beamed.

Cade snorted and headed back towards the bunkhouse to collect their things.

Zac turned back to the men across the river. "You guys got enough supplies?' He asked.

"What would you do if I said we didn't." Maxson yelled back.

Zac shrugged, sent them a flashing grin and turned away with a wave.

"We'll meet you guys at the bridge." Max shouted by way of farewell.

Maxson and Boone exchanged a long look with each other and sighed inwardly. They were stuck together for a little longer.

* * *

Courier was vexed.

MacCready kept a respectful distance from the grouchy man as they marched back up the I70 towards Turtletub. The sun was out and it blazed down, drying out the sodden land and erasing any trace of the downpour that had happened the day before. Steam rose in patches off the cracked asphalt and heat undulated from it in the distance.

The two of them had camped at the rest stop that they had reached the day before and in the morning they had clambered over the pile of mountain refuse that had almost killed them.

They looked around for a while, Courier still harboured a fruitless hope that he would somehow find his missing hat and sunglasses in amongst the rubble. After he gave up the search with a scowl, MacCready offered up his shades and the Couriers anger abated a bit.

"Nah kid, it's OK. I got spares back in Vegas." The Courier grimaced and ran his hand through his overlong ebony hair. "I just hate waste. They had a few good innings left in them, is all. It wasn't their time to go."

They went quiet as they continued their trek.

"What _is_ your story kid?" Courier mused suddenly with curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "I've listened to you guys around the campfire. You reminisce with the Lone Wanderer like you've known him all your life _and_ you're a Major in Maxs Minutemen… More than that, you're her most trusted buddy." He slowed his step and came alongside the young sniper and looked down at him expectantly.

"Umm… " MacCready suddenly felt nervous under the massive Couriers gaze, for all that he looked like Danse, he _did not_ give off the same vibe… the vibe that MacCready regularly teased and took pot shots at. "I'm better at listening to stories than I am with telling 'em." He said a bit shyly.

"Cummon RJ, this road is fucking boring…"

MacCready started recounting his life story to the Courier from his earliest memory in Little Lamplight, he didn't recall anything before that, not even his folks. He talked about his elevation to mayor, his first ever meeting with Zac Hobson, when he returned three of his constituents after freeing them from the slave town of Paradise Falls to when he returned for a second time to find the GECK. He talked about everything that happened after he got too old and was expelled from Little Lamplight, his wife Lucy and his son Duncan. He became solemn as he talked about everything leading up to the moment he first lay eyes on Maxine Everton.

The Courier stopped him before he could get into any detail, when he spotted something on the road ahead.

MacCready unslung the first rifle that came to hand, it was Nevasee, and took a knee in the road, raising the scope to his eye. He sighed in relief when Boones mug filled his whole field of vision.

"What magnification does she have this thing set to?" He mused as he lowered the rifle and peered down the road to gage the distance. "It's Boone and Maxson."

"And the others?"

"Nope, just them." MacCready said slinging the rifle over his shoulder again. "I need Max to mod my scope again, no wonder she sees more than I do."

Couriers eyes narrowed as he watched the Elder and the Sniper walk towards him. Maxsons foot speed increased as he eagerly approached them, the look on his face indicated he would rather be anywhere else than in the company of Craig Boone. Boones face was as dark and as inscrutable as ever.

"Why didn't you go back to town?" He growled when they reached him.

Boone and MacCready casually bumped fists in greeting, something the snipers had started doing a while ago when Max insisted they did it as they swapped out positions when they were on the road, it was like a little sniper club thing. Maxson ground his teeth when he saw it.

"The bridge was swept away in the storm." Maxson reported. "We saw them, they are meeting us at that bridge further down."

"Supplies?" Courier asked

"They are loaded up and weighted down." Maxson advised, thinking it was quite refreshing to reporting to someone else for a change.

"Where's your hat?" Boone asked, his mouth twitched in the Boone equivalent of a smirk as he surveyed the Couriers almost flowing locks.

Courier glowered at him, resisting the urge to rake his fingers through his hair.

"Shut up." He snapped and turned his back on his friend with an indignant snort.

They started trekking back the way that they had come with the Courier grumbling about how much he hated the sight of this damned road. They climbed over the mass of landslip rubble again and found themselves at the rest stop… again. They began to set up camp and MacCready and Boone both climbed onto the roof of the old toilet block to keep watch on the far side of the river.

Not more than an hour later Boone whistled down to let them know that he had spotted the rest of their group trudging along of the opposite bank and much to the surprise of everyone, he leapt off the roof and went out to meet them on the bridge. Courier watched perplexed as Max and he exchanged a fist bump and Boone took both of the packs that Max was carrying and lugged them back to the camp for her.

"Lose your hat?" Zac said as he approached the camp and dumped his packs on the ground. He was now sporting a yellow motorbike helmet and had found a red bandana somewhere.

Courier grinned through gritted teeth.

"Your hair's longer than I thought... you want me to braid it for you?" Max offered with a bright smile.

"Next time, you guys fall into a river… I'm not looking for you." He grated. "I'll look for Cade though."

"Max has that pretty smelling hair serum… she could lend you some." Cade pitched in, rubbing his hand over his own stubbled head.

"Fuck you all." Courier grouched, stomping off to the far side of the camp.

The seven of them, once again reunited, fell into their regular nightly routine of setting up camp as if nothing had happened. Max made up for her light ribbing of the Courier by presenting him with a box of his precious ammo and he, delighted as he was, sat still for nearly ten whole minutes while she braided his hair. When she was done, he sought out Boone who was once again on the roof of the toilet block.

"How was it with Maxson?" He asked as he sat down next to the sniper.

"Fucker dosed me with Med-ex." Boone growled.

"Was that before or after you were shot?" Courier asked.

"After." Boone conceded.

"What's the problem then?"

Boone just stared out at the river.

Courier nodded. "and what about you dashing out to Max and taking her bags?"

"She's injured." He replied shortly.

"You didn't take Zac and Cades bags…"

Boone went silent again.

"You and Max are on watch at three. Go get some sleep."

 **AN: Did not spell or grammar check 'cause I am lazy as Fuck! Read, review or whatever...**


	46. Chapter 46

**AN: Not too long this one but as was pointed out, as I draw out the roadtrip, it gets repetitive. I passed a hundred thousand words without even noticing. Pretty big deal for a loser like myself. Remember to review.**

 **Chapter 46 – Telling Stories**

Boone talked more in those three hours than he had in years. From three AM to six AM, he told Max about California, the NCR, Bitter Springs, Carla, The Courier, Hoover Dam and everything else in the eight years before they had walked through the gates of Sanctuary. The only other person he had ever opened up to, up until that point, was the Courier himself.

He was hesitant at first, but after Max gently asked him a few questions and coaxed the words out of him, it flowed out until there was nothing else to say. Max was secretly worried that once it was all out, Boone might have nothing to say ever again… it was like a one time thing, his confession.

Boone ended up sitting in silence again, staring out into the dark predawn. Max had the feeling that he was waiting for some kind of judgement to be passed on him, like he expected her to get up and leave him. She nibbled in the inside of her cheek as she thought. She definitely understood his hatred of the Legion now.

He was a gentle soul really, eaten up by guilt after his service to the NCR and the mercy killing of his wife and unborn child. It made her hesitant to impart any of her own history, if he was so damaged by what he had done, what would he make of her bloody history…? The things she had done under orders and in service to her country…and her orders had been no mistake, no miscommunication, her acts had been deliberate, merciless and without remorse.

She didn't get the opportunity to tell anything of herself that morning, and for that, she was grateful. She remembered the look of disbelief on Danses face when she had told him just one of her stories, she didn't want to see that from Boone or anyone else. And she definitely didn't want to tell him about her son. What she did do was wrap her arm around his waist and lean her head against his shoulder and wait in silence for the time to wake their companions.

When Max heard the first of them stirring below just before their watch was about to end and the day begin, she placed her hand on Boones cheek and turned his face towards her. She pressed her lips to his and let her kiss tell him that no matter what he thought, she wasn't going to be scared away by his past. And when she broke the kiss, hefted Nevasee to her shoulder and climbed down from the roof of the toilet block, she could have sworn that she heard him sigh in relief. She just hoped that when it was time to talk about her, he wasn't squeamish and that he was _really_ forgiving.

* * *

There were days when nothing happened and while it seemed boring, they covered a hell of a lot of ground when it was boring. It was also when the long stories tended to be told.

With Max on point and Boone on read guard, MacCready once again found himself next to the Courier in the pack. Cade, Maxson and Zac were ahead of them and Zac was telling an entertaining story about the day he found himself having to intercede in the ongoing war between the Ant Agoniser and the Mechanist. The Courier looked down at MacCready and nudged him with his elbow.

"Hey kid, you were going to tell me how you met Max." He rumbled, reaching up his hand to push his hair back from his eyes, and lament the fact he still didn't have a hat.

"I'm about to turn twenty five, you know." MacCready challenged in good humour.

Courier chuckled. "Point taken, RJ. You told me that the Gunners had shown up at The Third Rail and had issued a cease and desist on you trading as a merc…"

"Yep…" The group in front of them quieted and began to listen as well. "… so Barnes and Winlock are standing in front of me when this absolute stunner of a woman pushes past them, grabs me by my lapels and lays a kiss on me that turns my knees to Instamash."

Maxsons back stiffened at that and Zac laughed.

"Woah there son, was there something between you and our lovely General?" Zac asked, looking back with a cheeky grin.

MacCready grinned back. "In my dreams… for weeks after that night… but no. She just wanted to talk to me but didn't want to get in on my personal arguments. She kissed me until the Gunners got all uncomfortable and left."

He grinned at the memory of the look on Winlocks stupid face when Max had pushed her way in front of him, grabbed hold of MacCready and laid one on him. MacCready tried to forget what the look on his own face must have been like after that.

"Anyway, she puchased my services… for waaay under my asking price… to help her out on a job for Hancock. She didn't actually need me on the job, she was just using me as an alibi. And then somehow, I ended up as her full time companion. I'm still not sure how that happened." MacCready pursed his lips and glanced skyward. "Nope, no idea how I ended up working for her and I think I also refunded my whole hire price at some stage too." MacCready looked perplexed for a minute and then smiled widely. "Totally worth it though."

"What do you mean by 'using you as an alibi'?" Zac asked, his eyebrow raised in query.

MacCreadys cheeks flushed a little at the memory of that night. "Let's just say that there's not a single person in Goodneighbour who believes that we left her hotel room at the Rexford that night."

Zac laughed and cast a long look at the Generals back as she sauntered up the road ahead of them and then sent a quick glance at Maxsons dark face next to him as he glared in the same direction.

"The General certainly knows how to use her talents to get what she wants, huh?" He chuckled.

"You guys know I can hear you, right?" Max called back without turning.

They all went quiet for a minute after the light admonishment, then MacCready spoke up again, with a little less volume than before.

"I owe her more than you guys can imagine. I'll follow her to the ends of the earth." He said sincerely.

"Is there anyone that woman hasn't kissed?" Maxson grumbled.

"Just me and Cade, I think… but the trip ain't over yet." Zac grinned and waggled his eyebrows at his friend.

"Courier and Boone too?" Maxson growled, looking back at the offending companions.

"She thought I was Danse at the time." Courier defended himself, putting hands up in surrender.

"… and Boone had given her Nevasee." MacCready added with a grin. "He looked quite shocked by the whole kiss episode."

"I can still hear you." Max yelled from the front of the pack.

"Actually, she's kissed me too." Cade said sheepishly and all eyes turned to him in surprise. "I don't think she really meant it though."

"What? Max, what the fuck? You kissed the gay guy before you kissed me?" Zac complained loudly.

"Oh, for fucks sake." Max turned on her heal and stomped back to the group. MacCready walked passed her with a grin, taking over point. She walked up to Zac Hobson, grabbed him firmly by the collar and crushed her lips against his. Zac, always the opportunist, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her hard against him, deepening the kiss and letting his hand wander to her butt. Max eventually pried herself away and broke the vigorous kiss and backed away from him, removing his hand from her arse and glaring at them all.

"Happy now? The whore of the Commonwealth has kissed all of you now." Max announce huffily, and stalked back to her post out in front, sending MacCready back with a dirty look.

"Very happy, thanks." Zac called to her with a slightly breathless grin. "We don't need to tell Moira about that."

Maxson had a comically incredulous look on his face as the group started walking again. "You didn't need to grab her arse." He growled at the Lone Wanderer.

"Oh yeah, I so did." He grinned back.

Courier looked back at Boone, who had not heard the conversation from the rear of the group but had seen Max and Zac in the heated kiss and embrace. The guys eyes were so wide that the white bits could be seen through his aviators. He shook his head and mumbled something to himself. It looked a lot like 'yeah, well, I'm sleeping with her so, fuck you."

Courier laughed and turned back to the group and the long road ahead.

* * *

They followed the I70 and the Colorado River for days at a mile chomping pace. They were in good spirits and they spent their time trading stories and laughing, now so easy in each others company.

Their routine worked so well, they didn't even need to discuss setting up camp or breaking camp, their watch or breakfast rosters, they just got on with it in amiable silence. The walk down from the Rockies began to take on an almost holiday like air about it, though they did have a few minor incidents involving ferals, a legion patrol, raiders and a pack of pesky animals the Courier identified as nightstalkers. Though he did wonder aloud how they came to be so far from the Mojave.

They were across the invisible border from Colorado and into Utah five days after they left the rest stop and the river was no longer at their side. They chose to follow the dependable I70 onwards. Courier had a plan now he was coming into familiar territory, they could cut across to the I15 and head south through Cedar City and Zion. He was beginning to feel lighter in his step as he came closer to home.

He knew Boone was too. In the evenings he watched his friend edge closer to the fire rather than sit on the periphery of the group. He even joined in conversations once in a while, though he still didn't say much and even then it was to either the Courier, Max or MacCready. Courier also could have sworn that he heard a chuckle once, at something that Cade said. He still glared at Maxson and Zac.

On the night they paid for bunks at a trading post called Cisco, Courier noted that Max went AWOL for a while and that Boone was also nowhere to be found. Boone was never missed as he was rarely around at turn-in time anyway, but Maxs absence would be felt. He hoped no one else noticed.

She eventually wandered out of the bathroom as if she had been in the bunkhouse all along, just a few minutes before Boone came in through the front door. They both moved in their separate directions. Max sat next to MacCready as he reclined at the card table arguing with Zac on the rules of Caravan and Boone hunkered down on the floor by his bunk and began to disassemble and clean his rifle. Courier watched the two of them closely for a while, they didn't even glance in each others direction… not once.

He eventually got up from his bunk and wandered into the bathroom and looked around slightly confused. He was not entirely sure where Max had come from. She was a sneaky SOB.

He came out of the bathroom and Max had Zac face down on the card table with his arm wrenched around his back, the Courier wasn't sure why, but he was sure the Lone Wanderer deserved it. Maxson and MacCready were laughing. Cade looked up from his book long enough to roll his eyes and then went back to reading. Boone ignored them all and continued cleaning his rifle.

Courier went back to his bunk and lay down on it. He decided that he was going to buy a new hat tomorrow and a new pair of sunglasses before they hit the road again.

He gave one last once over of his friends as they settled in for the night. Boone and Maxs eyes met for just a moment across the room and Boone smiled… and Zac fucking Hobson saw it.


	47. Chapter 47

**AN: Bit of a nothing chapter, but I wanted to get something down before I left for Christmas break. Have a** ** _real_** **good one all, you won't hear from me for a wee while but I will be back. I also need to think of an ending to this thing, getting close the Mojave now and I'll feel pretty stink if I can't think of anything.**

 **Review if you want but I won't be too sad if you don't... I won't cry into my pillow, I promise. Happy Holidays y'all.**

 **Chapter 47 – The Merchant of Cedar City**

The I70 was easy and clear from Cisco to the junction of the I15. It may have had something to do with the increase in traffic, merchants and their obligatory entourages of guards and mercs trudged up and down the road in both directions and there were more settlements dotting the landscape. It may also have had something to do with the massive increase in Legion presence.

Just over eight years ago, the Legion under the first Caesar made an aggressive second push for control over the Hoover Dam and by extension, the whole of the Mojave. A push that had failed spectacularly against the combined forces of the Mojave, led by none other than the illustrious, though amnesiac, Courier Six. The Caesar, Edward Sallow, was dead before that battle even took place, as both the Courier and Boone had stormed Fortification Hill earlier, both bent on bloody revenge and a relentless drive for the Courier to complete his delivery. He had his professional integrity to protect, after all.

The Legion was crippled and sent limping out into the desert after that, but it did not die from its injuries. Instead, they sat over the river and licked their wounds and began to rebuild their forces again.

No one had the resources to chase them down in the vast landscape beyond the Colorado River and so they were left to spawn and grow, like radrats, under the new rule of The Bull, the mysterious new Caesar who was reputed to be more ruthless than his predecessor and far more strategically minded. Sallow was essentially a teacher at his core, not a warlord. The Bull was another creature entirely, or so the rumours went.

By Legion decree, travel on the I70 was safe… relatively speaking. Trade was encouraged and merchants moved about freely. The old interstates were rarely strayed from as it usually meant that one was fair game for the legion slavers if one was caught out in the open and raiders stayed well away or else they would find themselves adorning the now frequent crosses that sprouted from the roadsides. MacCready kept his eyes averted from them whenever they happened upon one.

The problem was not that the Legion patrols moved up and down the roads openly and in numbers, eyeballing travellers and daring them to stray from the path. The problem was that Craig Boone was a member of their party.

Boone was no longer allowed to take point or rear guard… after one occasion early on in the Utah leg of the journey, where he disappeared for a couple of hours from the rear of the group and came back, splattered with blood and loaded down with pilfered ammunition. Courier was irate to say the least and though he spoke harshly to his friend, using many wild arm gestures, Boone had simply stared blankly at him for a while before wandering off while Courier was mid tirade.

Courier sent Max to talk to him. Zac had watched the two of them talking softly just outside of the firelight that particular night, as the camped by the road. He noted every time Max touched Boone, she laid her hand on his knee to punctuate whatever she was saying to him, she touched his cheek to draw his eyes back to hers whenever he glanced away from her. While Max was a touchy-feely kind of girl, this display looked particularly intimate and along with the night in Cisco when Boone had looked at her with that drippy smile on his face and after she had holed up in the bathroom for what seemed like hours… yeah, right!

There was definitely something going on there. So much for her declaration of no romantic entanglements, Zac thought. Maxson would be shattered.

So, Boone was absorbed into the pack and he stalked along quietly as Max, MacCready and the Courier took up the rotating guard. He glared at every legion patrol they saw, even the ones at a distance, but he kept his finger off the trigger for the duration. He tended to cast long, resentful looks at Max at such encounters, though he walked close at her side when she was on rest.

As planned, they turned south at the I15 and the Courier was buoyed by it. His step was light as he came in contact with _HIS_ road, the road that would take him home. He increased their already quick pace, eager to get closer to the familiar sands of the Mojave Wasteland.

Seventy five miles later and four more new scars between them thanks to a couple of minor altercations on the road (the interstate was _safer_ , not safe), the seven weary travellers plodded into the walled and heavily fortified trade hub of Cedar City, though city was a relative term.

There was the usual collection of burnt out shells of buildings and patchy roadway leading up to the gate, declaring the place to have been much larger in its hey day before the war. The gates opened directly into the marketplace where stall holders touted their wares and bawled out their lists of services. The smell of Brahmin permeated the hot and still air. The group had to question whether penning the beasts inside of the city gates was wise and they tried not to breathe too deeply.

Just past the market came the saloons, hotels, bunkhouses, bathhouses, whorehouses, casinos and chem dens; the fun part of town.

The group slogged through the market, Max intent on the bathhouse and the rest intent on the saloon, when Courier heard a familiar and loud voice calling out. He stood up taller and scanned over the heads of the crowd until his eyes fell on the straw hat and the mass of bright red hair on Cass as she pushed her way rudely through the throng. A grin split his face and he ploughed towards her. He reached her side in no time and took her up in a rough bear hug, pressing a wet kiss on her cheek as she hollered and squirmed against him. The group looked on, exchanging knowing looks. Except Boone, who huffed and rolled his eyes.

Courier pulled his friend out of the mass of humanity to a clear space just between the market and the 'fun' and the east coast group followed at a polite distance, watching the vibrant red head talk excitedly to the Courier, who listened and replied and after a while jerked his thumb over his shoulder at them.

Cass then looked passed the Courier, noting Boone standing in front of the group. Her eyes widened a little and lingered first on the Lone Wanderer.

"Oh… Hi there." She said, her voice dropping an octave into a seductive kind of growl.

"Hey." Zac replied with exaggerated casualness, dropping his hands into his pockets and using one of his patented sexy, silver screen, heart throb smiles on her.

She smiled back appreciatively and then she saw MacCready, who tipped his newish hat forward in greeting with a smirk, Cade, who blushed a little under the blatant appraisal and then Maxson, who just glowered at her.

"Where on earth did you find all of these gorgeous men?" She breathed in wonder to the Courier, who snorted in response. And then she spotted Max. Cass' eyes swept her up and down and she shoved her way passed the Courier to stand in front of the General.

"Well, heelloooo there, Beautiful." She leered at the Sole Survivor.

"Hello, yourself," Max purred in return, her eye drifting over Cass before looking back up at her under lowered lashes. A whole bunch of male eyes widened at that and all of the men looked at the General with renewed interest.

"I think _you_ …. need to get out of this sun and that jacket and come and have a drink with me." Cass invited Max suggestively, putting an arm around her shoulders and turning her towards the closest saloon.

"I don't drink much, but I will lose the jacket and get out of the sun." Max replied coyly, happy to be led away from her team by the pretty caravaner.

"Fine sweetheart, you can watch me drink and I can watch you strip." Cass snuggled up to the General and arm in arm, with giggles floating above them, they sashayed towards the closest bar, worryingly named 'The Filthy Shotglass'.

The men watched the ladies leave, there was more than one open mouth and Boone had tipped his sunglasses forwards and was watching them with his eyebrows raised. Max spared them a backwards glance and a smile before swishing through the saloon doors in Cass' wake.

The guys all exchanged a long look before following them into the dim and much cooler taproom.

They waited for their eyes to adjust to the darker, much smokier interior. Max had indeed discarded her leather jacket, body armour and helmet and sat on a barstool next to Cass and her rifle leaned up against the bar. MacCready noticed right away that there was a beer bottle, wet with icy condensation sitting in front of the General and he sighed. For a smart lady, she never learned.

The other, somewhat dodgy looking patrons of the bar were keeping careful watch on the pretty redheaded caravaner, who flirted outrageously with all of them and the absolutely gorgeous newcomer, dressed in tight leather pants and a tighter, barely there, whiteish singlet, her hair falling in soft dark waves down her back and her face bright with a relaxed and friendly smile as she chatted amiably with her new best friend.

Max lifted the chilled bottle to her mouth and the clientele watched enthralled as she took a deep drink, each and every one of them wishing that they were that bottle, imagining those lips doing other things.

The beers were cold, they looked really good, so the rest of the men crowded up to the bar, surrounding the ladies. Courier plonked himself down next to Cass and she looked over at him. Max had been distracted by MacCready who was warning her to pace herself, she waved him away flippantly and took another long pull of her beer, and waved to the bartender for another.

"So, how was the east coast?" Cass asked the Courier, nudging him with her elbow.

"Interesting." The courier replied shortly… he was the king of understatement. He nodded towards Boone who had taken up a beer and was sipping it while keeping a close eye on Max. "Boone's in love." He advised her.

"Hmmmm, I have to admit, known her only a few minutes and I'm pretty much in love myself. You see those tits? Defying fucking gravity." Cass laughed.

Courier rolled his eyes at her and signalled to the barman.

"Good on him though… Does he remember how to use that dangly thing between his legs or has it shrivelled up and fallen off from disuse?"

Courier gave her a silent but meaningful look and she gaped at him in comprehension. He nodded with a grin. "First time I've seen him smile without a dead Legionnaire at his feet."

"Fuck right off! You mean he actually managed to bed that beauty?" Cass raised her eyebrows incredulously and whispered conspiratorially. "How?"

Courier shrugged and took a swig of the beer that had appeared in front of him.

"I'll keep in mind that she has _real_ low standards." Cass muttered, shaking her head in wonder. She then looked down the row of newcomers. "What about the rest of them?" She tipped her head to encompass the east coast contingent, "… I like the blonde one and the young, brooding one with the intense eyes, and the other young one's fucking hot. The older guy's nice too… I bet _he's_ filthy."

Courier laughed. It was deep and rumbly sound that vibrated right down to your bones.

"Jesus, Cass." He chuckled. "The dark, young one is a Brotherhood of Steel Elder and he's besotted with Max too. Sorry, kid."

Cass looked disappointed and the Courier continued down the line. "The other young guy's taken by a very pretty french doctor. The dashing blonde is also taken, apparently. And Cade would be more interested in Arcade than you… sorry again."

"You bought all these men over from the coast and I can't have a single one?… What the fuck, man?" Cass pouted, thumping the bar with her fist and gesturing for another drink. Courier noted she was still downing whiskey like it was water.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Courier asked the Caravaner. "I thought you were staying out of Legion territory?"

"Caps, Six… always caps," Cass groaned. "NCR are taxing the fuck outta everything. No one can buy fuck all, I gotta go where the caps flow. And I promised to drop some stuff off to the dead horses on my way back through Zion."

"We're just staying the night, then we head out again… when you leaving to go back?" He asked.

"One of my pack Brahmin pulled up lame, will need another couple of days to heal before I can move."

Courier nodded. "Any honest traders in this place? I need to find some ammo for my girls."

Cass smiled. "Creepy Sal. He's got a good range, Ex Gun Runner. Fourth stand in on the right from the gate, he's got a lazy eye."

Courier thanked her with a squeeze to her arm and looked over at Boone.

"I'm going to resupply, we need to get us some rooms for the night too."

Boone just nodded, chopped back the last of his beer and then hitched his rifle up to his shoulder, ready to go, as always.

"I'll get us some beds." Cade offered, placing his empty bottle down as well.

"Ooh." Zac cried, "I wanna shop too."

"We're not 'shopping'… we're resupplying." Courier groaned.

Zac gave a laugh as the men gathered up their things and looked at Max, who seemed more than content to stay where she was.

"I am going to finish my drink." She nodded towards her half full beer bottle. "and then I am going to purchase a bath."

"And I will keep her company." Cass said with a lascivious grin, "in the drinking and in the bathing… especially the bathing."

"Fine... whatever. Just watch her though. She's a lightweight." Courier warned as Max gasped in mock offence.

"Don't worry." Cass said with a leer. "I'll be watching her."

 **AN: Also, didn't spell or grammar check.. Merry Christmas. xxx**


	48. Chapter 48

**AN: I'm back, last update before the end of 2016. Read and review in good health and I'll see youse fellas next year.**

 **Chapter 48 – Containing Maxine**

The Rose of Sharon Cassidy wasn't exactly a spring chicken anymore. Hey, it was true, the was no denying that she was on the wrong side of her forties. This was simply a fact and one she was totally cool with. She was still smoking hot after all.

Over the years of operating a caravan and travelling around the wastes, she had seen some strange shit; this was the first time she'd seen a pre war woman who wasn't a ghoul, who had skin like she imagined silk would feel like, totally uncorrupted by radiation. It was the first time she'd met anyone who found Boone even the slightest bit appealing who wasn't the Courier. And it was the first time she'd seen anyone get completely shitfaced on a few beers.

Like, completely fucking legless. It was funny as fuck.

Max had tilted her head back and drained her fourth beer, swaying slightly in her seat and looked bleary eyed around the bar room. Light weight was the understatement of the century. Cass was surprised when the woman started to suggest things that they should do next.

Courier pushed his way into the saloon with Boone at his shoulder and was greeted by the sight of Maxine Everton, General of the Commonwealth Minutemen and Sole survivor of Vault one eleven in the process of trying to do a head stand in the middle of the taproom. She had removed her leather pants and boots and was clad only in the singlet and underwear, her arse in the air and head on the floor, making weak and very unsteady attempts to kick her feet up into a chortling Cass' waiting hands.

Boone made a growling sound in his throat and pushed passed the Courier and hauled the woman to her wobbly feet and held onto her to stabilise her. He glared at Cass over Maxs head.

"He said to watch..." He managed to growl at Cass before Max realised who was holding onto her and lay a kneecap melting kiss on him, her hot lips tasting of malty hops and the sharp sting of rads. He vaguely heard Cass burst out laughing, but when Max wrapped her arms around his neck and he felt her fingers worm their way under his beret to stroke his soft short hair, he was pretty much lost. His hands slid across her hips and secured themselves to her, drawing her in close, his fingertips straying under the fabric of her underwear.

"Boone!"

Couriers large hands wedged themselves between them and forced them apart. Max had manged to secure Boones beret in her hands and slapped it on her head with a triumphant laugh. Cass sat her chuckling self onto a barstool and watched gleefully as the two men tried to wrangle Max.

Courier first glared at his somewhat breathless friend, who looked back unapologetically. He agreed to keeping his burgeoning relationship with Max a secret for Max. She kissed him, game changer.

"Cummon, Max… time to call it a day, aye?" Courier said gently to the inebriated General.

Max snorted and adjusted the beret on her head to a jaunty angle, dodging Boones attempt to reclaim it.

"What happened to her pants?" Demanded a rough voice from the doorway of the saloon. Maxson and Cade were back.

"The pants were too restrictive to do a head stand … and the boots meant she couldn't wiggle her toes." Cass informed them all from her barstool with a chuckle, she threw back a shot of whiskey and knocked on the bar for another.

"You were told to watch her." Maxson growled, as MacCready and Zac shoved their way through the doors behind him. Zac had acquired a brightly coloured tribal headdress, he laughed sharply as he took in the scene before him.

"Meh." Cass replied. "Y'all said she was a light weight… maybe you should have informed me that she couldn't handle more than three…"

Courier glared at her and tried to engage the general again.

"Max, you wanted a bath right?" He said, taking hold of her forearm and drawing her towards the door.

"Carry me." She slurred, leaning on him and looking up at him with those eyes.

"Nah, Fuck that, you've got legs." Courier sniffed. Nope, not falling for those damn eyes.

She pouted at him before giving an impish grin. She let her legs go out from under her and went ragdoll as she hit the floor.

"Got no legs." She whined from her prone position. "Have to carry me."

Courier sighed. He would not carry the woman to her bed, no fucking way was he doing that

Maxson stepped forwards. "I've got her." He said, stooping to collect her from the floor as she giggled like a little girl.

"Uh-uh." MacCready said quickly, stepping up as well. "There's no way I'm leaving you alone with her when she's like this."

Maxson looked insulted. "I wouldn't take advantage of her when she's incapacitated."

"Riiiiiight… she kisses you and you'd be all like 'No Max, I can resist your advances, you sexy, half naked bitch'." MacCready snorted incredulously. "I'll take her."

"I'll help." Cade said with a grin. "She'll be like a sack of flour in that state."

Zac watched with an amused expression on his face as Cade and MacCready manhandled Max off the floor. "Just out of curiosity, how many did she have?"

Cass was laughing uproariously." Four light beers…. Bwahaaahaaa."

Boone wanted to help but he knew that he _definitely_ couldn't and wouldn't keep his hands off her, he simply stood back with his arms crossed over his chest and watched them struggle with her, a small smirk on his face.

MacCready managed to get her over his shoulder as she chortled gleefully. From her position on his back, she started beating out a tattoo on his right butt cheek with her hands. Cass almost fell off her barstool, she was laughing so hard, as MacCready touted General Max Everton out of the saloon with Cade in tow.

Boone walked over to the bar and collected Maxs belongings and rifle and slung them over his arm before making for the door.

"Where're we staying?" he asked over his shoulder to Maxson.

"Cedar City Inn, two streets back on the left." Maxson replied before looking at Courier. "More expensive, but Cade assured me that we wouldn't catch anything from the bedding."

Courier nodded approvingly and sank into the closest barstool as Cade came barrelling back through the saloon door, shoving the burdened Boone out of the way. Everyone looked at him in surprise.

"She got away." He cried.

Courier stood up again. "What do you mean she got away?"

"She told MacCready to put her down and that she could walk and then she was gone. He's looking for her but even drunk, she's still one of the best covert assassins in the wastes" Cade explained, looking remorseful.

Boone thrust Maxs things at Cade and disappeared through the doorway and out into Cedar City, ignoring Couriers call to wait.

Courier made an exasperated sound and looked at Maxson, Zac, Cade and Cass. "OK so, we have a beautiful drunk woman in her underwear, loose in a city full of mercs, traders and Legion. Maxson, Zac: you take the east side of town, Cade with me in the west. Cass?"

"I will wait here." She announced staunchly, her face straight.

Courier glared at her again. "Thanks pal."

"No problem."

The two teams separated at the saloon door and began to comb the streets for their missing general.

* * *

Boone found MacCready in minutes after exiting the Saloon. MacCready was uncharacteristically angry.

"I swear to God, when I find her I'm gonna kill her." RJ grated out, "We let too much of her bullshit slide… she knows better than this."

Boone stalked along side the young Major and listened to the rant nodding every now and then. It was the first time he'd heard MacCready use a cuss word.

"I mean, she was hard work before Danse died," MacCready continued, "but since then, she's off the hook, like she's trying to get herself killed. I thought her hooking up with you might calm her a bit."

Boone shot MacCready a quick look of disbelief.

"I'm not an idiot, despite appearances…" MacCready smirked as he stomped through a group of prostitutes trying to entice him to enter their brothel. He shooed them away impatiently. "I'm pretty sure the only one who doesn't know is Maxson."

Boone grunted.

"The police in this town are all Legion." MacCready said matter of factly as a patrol of said legionaries trooped past them from the opposite direction. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No." Boone said gruffly. "I just want to find her."

"Ha, you're in love with her then." MacCready laughed.

"Yeah." Boone said softly, his eyes scanning the streets for any sign of his lady and his beret.

"That's gonna get tricky then. What happens when this is all over? Is she gonna stay in the Mojave? Are you coming back to the Commonwealth?"

Boone frowned… he hadn't thought about it. He shrugged.

* * *

Cade kept his eyes open and scanned the crowds, the Courier had a better view being five inches taller, but Cade still had sharp eyes. Back in the day, he was put on point even though he was just a lowly scribe. If he had practiced, he could have been spotter or sharpshooter, but he had always preferred medicine to fight craft.

Courier kept up a steady stream of curses, not always under his breath. People melted out of his way after one glance at his furious countenance. At the moment, he oozed malice. When Max was found, she would be in for it.

Cade had a few words to say to the woman as well. He was carefully crafting admonishments in his head as they searched, he always had a way with words and he wanted Max to be truly contrite after they had all finished rebuking her.

Right now though, he was worried. Max was unarmed, unarmoured and disorientated in a strange town in hostile territory. She wasn't the greatest with wise choices when she had her facilities about her and under the influence, as she was, he was surprised that the entire city wasn't on fire already. He was about to wonder how hard could it be to find a lady in her underwear in the city, when a fully nude guy stumbled out of a casino to a chorus of jeers from within and another man in a greying pair of boxer shorts lay snoring on the veranda of a whorehouse.

Cade kept on looking, trailing behind the fuming Courier.

* * *

Zac was treating the search like it was a fun treasure hunt or sporting event. He kept up an over the top narration of how events were unfolding and continues to throw over to Maxson for comment. Maxson loved the Lone Wanderer like a brother. He had, ever since the awe inspiring eighteen year old former vault dweller had wandered into the Citadel all those years ago and shown his contemporary Brotherhood of Steel soldiers how it was really done. At ten years old, Arthur Maxson had worshipped the dashing young hero. Right now though, he was being a pain in the arse.

"…The cunning and attractive young heroes stalked through the depraved town in search of the fair maiden in her skimpies. Sin and corruption surrounded them but they were steadfast and strong willed. The bold and austere Brotherhood Elder said…" Zac looked at Maxson expectantly.

"Shut up, Zac."

"… His voice resonated power and dared everyone who heard him to deny him his order." Zac concluded with a grin. "She's fine."

"I know."

"… the intelligent and extremely handsome adventurers passed by a palace filled with buxom, bright eyed wenches, each one more mouth watering than the last," Zac intoned as they passed by a whorehouse with half a dozen ladies reclining on the front porch. "… but they kept on their path resolute and virtuous."

Maxson rolled his eyes… buxom and bright eyed was a big stretch.

There was a commotion in alleyway up ahead and Maxson made a beeline for it and as he reached the mouth of the alleyway he found only a trio of men shaking down a fourth for his caps. Maxson drew his laser pistol and gunned down the three muggers with distain, returning to his search and leaving the victim to drag himself out of the dust to search his attackers and reclaim his stuff.

"… the educated and really good looking Brotherhood Elder was magnanimous in his justice, leaving those in his wake breathless and much obliged."

Maxson glared at his friend again, knowing it was no use wasting his breath.

"And there she is…" Zac said, pointing at a ring of onlookers, Maxs red beret capped head was the only part of her they could see.

"Oh god, what has she done?" Maxson breathed as they neared and pushed through the crowd of rubberneckers.

Max stood, breathing hard, in the centre of the cleared space, the bodies of a six man legion patrol littering the ground. Her white singlet and underwear splattered with the blood of the fallen. She was on her guard, her feet planted and hands wide as she scanned the crowd with agate hard eyes for more contestants in her impromptu fight club. The patrol had obviously approached her and tried to apprehend her. Maxson hesitated before advancing on her. She had that same look in her eye, the same look from when they took the institute. That dead look.

"Max?" Zac moved forwards first, his eyes wary as he felt the same vibe as Maxson did.

Her gaze fell on him but gave no hint of recognition, they needed back up. Maxson and Boone could still communicate through their pipboys, though they didn't. Maxson raised his pipboy microphone to his mouth and called on the sniper.

"Boone, we've found her. We need help." He said softly.

"Where are you?" Boone voiced came through clearly, though tinny, through the pipboy speakers and Maxs eyes snapped to Maxson.

"Outside the 'Rough 'n' Ready Brothel' and the 'Clinking Cap Casino' in the south east of town… hurry, we're gonna need to get out of town fast."


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49 – Are there Questions?**

The crowd had backed off leaving a wide open space around the mad looking woman surrounded by Legion corpses. She had crouched down, the knuckle of her left hand curled in the dirt, her right hand slowly drawing a machete from the belt of the closest Legion body and a low feral growl had emitted from deep in her chest. Her eyes were boring into Maxson. Not Maxson himself, but rather the pipboy at his wrist.

Boone and MacCready entered the top end of the street at the same time as a Legion patrol marched in from the south entrance. The crowd began to disperse quickly at the jingling sound of their approach.

"We need to go." Zac whispered urgently to Maxson.

"I'm not sure if she'll fight me if I try to get her." Maxson said uncertainly, eyeing Max as she used the machete to help stand slowly. Her eyes still fixed on Maxsons pipboy.

MacCready stopped at Maxsons side, his youthful face drawn into a tight frown. He never thought he'd see that look again. He had been injured when the final act of the Institute incursion had played out. But he still recalled seeing Max silently dispatch a courser right in front of him, her movements mechanical and clean. Barely human. And her eyes as empty as the void.

Boone had not been there… he strode up to Max, ignoring her eyes as they flicked towards him and scooped her up, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her shoulders.

The Legion patrol neared and the street was almost empty now. The team fled in the other direction, they did not need a battle with the Cedar City garrison right now.

Maxson was troubled. When he had approached Max in the Institute he had been sure she would have attacked him and even just a moment ago he knew she was fully prepared to attack him. Until she heard Boones voice through his pipboy…

The small group hurried through the zigzag of streets and soon found themselves in the crush of the market place again. They needed to set eyes on the Courier and Cade. They doubted that a murdered Legion patrol was something that the Cedar City authorities could let slide. MacCready saw Cade first and the Proctor saw them at the same time, tugging on the back of the Couriers coat to get his attention.

Courier glared across the market place in the direction of Cades gesture and seeing Max bloodied and cuddled up in Boones arms, strode quickly in their direction with Cade once again trailing behind the larger man. The crowds parted before him like the red sea.

"What happened?" He asked roughly as he reached them.

"Looks like she went full Max and killed a Legion patrol." Zac offered. "We need to go… now."

"A whole patrol?" Courier asked, a little surprised. "by hand?"

MacCready and Maxson nodded and the Courier knew there was more to hear, not right now though.

"Boone head for the south gate, keep to the back streets. Zac go with them, and loose the head gear." Courier said quickly, glancing up at the feathery tribal headdress still atop the Lone Wanderers head. "we'll grab our gear and meet you. I guess we'll need to shoot our way out of here then?"

"Probably." Zac said, pulling the headdress off and handed it to a random passing man, who looked stoked with his new hat.

"How long 'til she snaps out of… this?" Courier asked looking into Maxs glassy, empty eyes.

"Not sure." Maxson replied. "last time she left and didn't come back for five months."

"Delightful." Courier grimaced. "let's go."

The team dispersed. Boone carried Max and Zac drew the 'Perforator' and hurried along with them. Courier watched them go for a moment. He and Max were going to have words. Lots of words.

* * *

Zac took a quick look around the corner of the outhouse at the gate and swore. It was closed and there was a contingent of Legion standing before it. Boone didn't need to look, he knew what was there. He looked instead at Max, nestled in his arms. She seemed smaller and more delicate than she really was. He needed to protect her. He didn't know what was wrong with her but he was sure that once they got out of here, Cade could fix it.

Her eyes were open and they stared back at him, wide but strangely empty, like she wasn't really there. He wondered at it. What had happened to make her like this? It occurred to him that he hadn't yet heard her story. He had spilled his guts out to her that night at the truck stop and she had listened but shared nothing of herself and though they'd had ample opportunities since then, she still had kept herself carefully locked away. He frowned down at her.

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the rest of the group. They all crammed into the alleyway behind the outhouse, handing out their gear. MacCready dropped Maxs stuff on the ground at Boones feet and glanced at his friend worriedly. Cade approached as well, a syringe of Addictol in his hand, but as he reached for her to administer it, Maxs hand shot out and grasped his wrist bruisingly and her empty eyes clamped on him. She gave no hint that she recognised him.

Couriers stepped up and looked her in the eye. He took hold of her fingers and peeled them back from Cades wrist one by one. He took the syringe from the Proctor and injected it into her arm… and she let him. Boone and Courier exchanged a look, communicating in that silent language of long time association and friendship and Boone nodded. Courier patted him on the shoulder and then went to join Zac at the corner, to get a good look at the gate that was barring their way forward.

Couriers eyes widened and his face paled when he took in the appearance of the Legions large and dark skinned garrison commander and he swore under his breath. He tapped Zac on the shoulder and jerked his head back, indicating that the Lone Wanderer should join them. They crept back to the team and Courier looked over at MacCready with a grimace.

"I think it's safe to say that the Enclaves synth couriers are still around." He said tightly, his voice had an edge to it that none of them had heard before. It was a deep hurt and he was mightily insulted.

MacCready had confusion in his eyes at that. He had asked that question in what seemed like an age ago, back at CIT, the day that they had confirmed that Courier Six was the template for Danse. Courier jerked his thumb back over his shoulder towards the Legion guarding the gate.

"That tall guy in the fancy armour is Daniel Wyand. Dan died nine years ago in Primm. He was Courier Four." Courier clenched his teeth as he turned back to watch the synthetic version of his former friend and colleague, the Institute perversion and Enclave servant, issue orders to his Legion subordinates.

"You sure he's the synth and not the real Wyand?" Zac asked carefully, his voice quiet and conveying empathy.

"No." Courier conceded, "It could have been the synths body I found… but my gut says _that's_ not the real Dan."

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say, if Courier Four wasn't there, or rather his synth, it would be easy to blast our way out of here… but his presence might complicate our departure." Maxson said. "If his skills are anything like yours…"

"I could take him." Courier said confidently. "and we're not sure if the synths really are as good as their templates right? I mean… Danse was taken out, right? I don't want to denigrate Danses skills or anything but…"

"I'll take him out and look for the synth component." They all looked at Max in surprise, her eyes were once again alert. It seemed that where ever her mind had gone, it had suddenly arrived back.

"You can put me down, Craig." She said softly, no hint of the drunken slur in her speech.

Boone carefully placed her on her feet and she immediately crouched to retrieve her gear, dressing quickly.

"I don't know what's happened but I can work out that this is my fault." She said as she zipped up her jacket. "I'm sorry and I fully expect to get a thrashing for this." She didn't meet anyones eye as she strapped on her armour and helmet, wordlessly handing Boone his beret back. She buckled her belt up, holstered her 10mm and lifted her rifle up before finally looking at the Courier. "Two 9mm slugs to the temple didn't kill you, will a hollow point .308 to the forehead kill him?"

Courier watched her. She had no memory of the last couple of hours but she was contrite none the less. They would still have words.

"Should kill him." He grunted in ambiguous verification.

"Do you want him dead? Or are there questions?" Zac asked, glancing back over his shoulder at the gate and the object of their discussion.

Courier thought about it for only a second.

"You don't leave enemies behind you. Kill him or we will regret it. I assure you, we do not want this guy coming after us." He said sincerely.

"Right. I'll put one in his head, Boone can be ready to take the secondary shot if needed." Max said, loading a magazine into Nevasee and putting one in the chamber, locking the bolt. "The rest of you take out the rest, looks like a couple of squads. I'll look for the component to confirm his synthness and then we scarper."

"They'll chase us, but they'll stop once we reach Zion. The I15 doesn't go there, so we'll be going across country." Courier advised. "It'll be hard graft for a couple of days but we can rest up with the Dead Horses."

"Why will they stop?" Maxson asked.

"Joshua Graham." Courier said simply, drawing his lever action rifle from his back and levering a round into the chamber with a menacing click-clack.

They didn't pry as to whom Joshua Graham was or why the Legion was wary of him, they all just drew their weapons and turned to Max who in turn dropped to her knee. True to her word the synth garrison commanders head whipped backwards as the .308 round slammed into his forehead and sent his brain matter flying out the back of the new crater in his skull. Boone sent a second round after hers, not waiting to see if the first killed him. The second tore through the mans open mouth as his body jerked backwards from the first impact, the round exited through the same crater that Max had put there.

As the garrison commander fell, his men snapped into action. Weapons were drawn and stances taken as they scanned for hostiles. They found them quickly as the team emerged from the alleyway, guns blazing.

Max dashed towards the fallen garrison commander and potential synth, dodging bullets and slamming the stock of her rifle into the jaw of a soldier. Boone was there to tidy up, his pistol removing that soldier from the fight. He stood over Max, guarding her back as she pulled her knife from her belt and plunged it onto the spine of the commander. She probed for a moment and eventually felt the blade of her knife scrape against metal. She eased her fingers into the now gaping and messy wound and grabbed hold of the slippery component and tugged it out.

She pushed the synth part into one of the pockets on her belt and drew her 10mm to join the gun fight, a fight that was short and bloody, each of the team splattered with blood in the end and panting like they had each run a marathon. They scavenged quickly for ammunition from the bodies and then pushed on the gates, the seven travellers spilling out into the wastes once more, more than a marathon ahead of them.

"I paid for those damned beds." Maxson lamented as they set off. "and a damned steak dinner… Fuck!"

"I had to give away my hat." Zac added with a grin. "How will I ever cope with my hardship?"

"Shut up, Zac." Maxson snapped back, settling into a good paced run.

"Cummon man, running's good for you." Zac laughed at his side, "all that sitting around on the Prydwen made you soft. Like I said, we're all gonna be so fit by the time this is all over."

They followed the Courier due south as the sun began to set in the west. They left the I15 behind them and forged a new path into the wasteland, their feet carrying them quickly, not sure how long it would take the Cedar City garrison to form up a hunting party.


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50 – Gumdrops and Psychiatric Disorders**

They ran.

Courier set a bruising pace as they stumbled through the starless night over the uneven ground, frequently tripping on rocks and plant life and faltering into the unseen burrows of the smaller wasteland creatures.

They didn't stop running until the sun tinted the world pink in the east and then they only slowed to a fast walk.

Cade was tired though he wouldn't say a word of complaint about it. He was the eldest of the group by at least a decade and though he still worked out the mandatory four times a week as set out by Maxsons regime while on the Prydwen, he was also the least fit of group when they had started all of this. He wasn't sure but he guessed that the Courier was no older than thirty five, Boone too but they were seasoned hikers. MacCready was a former smoker, but he was far younger and quick to recover. Dylan Cade did not want to be the one to slow them down.

He occupied his mind by thinking about Max and what had happened in Cedar City and well before that in the Institute rather than the burning in his lungs and the protests from the muscles in his legs. He had a glimmer of an idea as to what it was and he wanted to see if he was right, he wanted to test his theory and wanted to talk to the Courier when they had a moment to do so. Of everyone, the Courier would understand what he needed and why.

He tripped on a hidden rut in the dirt and was quickly caught by Maxson before he fell. He corrected himself and sent a thankful look at his Elder. Maxson would not like what he had in mind for Max… not at all.

Cade guessed that Boone wouldn't like it either considered their ill hidden relationship, but he would be more easily swayed by the Courier if it came to that. Cade didn't want to hurt Max, but he could think of no other way to get the answers he wanted and potentially all of them needed.

The Courier and Boone could run at a mile eating pace for a long time, but even they needed to rest now and then. As morning broke and they slowed to a walk, Boone and Zac scouted ahead to find some form of shelter to rest up in for an hour or so. They needed to sleep and to eat, apart from the snacks that had been consumed in the market during their resupply mission they had not eaten since the previous morning and had not slept in even longer. Courier was sure they had a good lead on the Legion garrison at Cedar City and it wasn't too far to the northern border of Zion.

It was maybe an hour after Zac and Boone left that Maxsons pipboy crackled to life.

"About two miles south of you there's an old dirt road intercepting your trajectory, go left and about a hundred yards on your right you'll see an upturned truck. I'll meet you there." It was Zacs voice, it was a bit much to expect Boone to say so much in one breath.

Courier looked at his group. "Can we manage a jog?" he asked them, looking a little drawn himself.

They nodded and Courier led them according to Zacs directions, finding the road and the truck in no time at all. The Lone Wanderer sat atop the cab of the truck, he had acquired a faded blue truckers cap reading 'Tits 'n' Grits Topless Bar 'n' Grill' in bold white lettering with an artfully arranged nudey picture underneath it.

"Found a logging office just back off the road." He advised them, popping something into his mouth and chewing absently. "There were gumdrops."

He jumped down to the ground and wandered ahead of them finally emerging in a clearing amongst a cluster of long dead tree trunks. In the centre of the clearing in the lengthening shadow of an enormous earthmoving machine of some kind, was a small, mostly intact building.

Boone emerged from inside and met them at the door.

"I don't like it." He said shortly, his voice gruff. "Can't see."

He motioned purposefully towards the tall standing tree trunks around them.

"It'll do for now." Courier said also eyeing the tree line.

Max slung her rifle over her shoulder and started to climb the massive machine but Boone caught her arm before she made it far.

"No." He said firmly.

"I can climb this and keep watch from the top." She started.

"No." He repeated with more force.

Maxs eyes narrowed dangerously and she yanked her arm from his grasp drawing breath to launch a scathing retort.

"Max should go up." Cade said quickly, and everyone looked at him in surprise.

It was rare for the Proctor to speak out. Courier tilted his head and sent a questioning look waiting for him to go on.

"She is an experienced free climber and the best sniper we have." Cade defended Max, "She'll be safe up there and if one of the guys with the working pipboys lent it to her for an hour, she could warn us of danger without having to climb down first. The view of the surrounding landscape would be better without the tree trunks obscuring everything." He concluded.

He was looking at the Courier like he was trying to convince him but the Courier picked up on the subtle undertone… they needed to get rid of Max so that they could talk.

Courier nodded sagely pretending to ponder it. "You're right. Boone give Max your pipboy."

Boone opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it shut again with a click of his jaw. He unfastened the pipboy from his wrist and shoved it at Max, his teeth clenched so hard together, Courier was sure that he was grinding teeth to dust.

"Max, one hour and we're gone." Courier instructed. She nodded as she buckled the pipboy on her wrist, handing Boone hers with a dirty look. "Eat something." He added.

She was part way up the machine before he finished, her fingers somehow finding purchase against the seemingly smooth structure, like she was a radroach scurrying up a wall. It felt somehow wrong to compare the General to a bug, but Courier shrugged and ushered the rest of the team inside. Boone was alternating between watching Max climb and glaring at him.

"Cade wants to say something." Courier informed him, hoping to reassure his friend.

"It'd better be good." Boone grunted, casting a long look up at Max before making to slouch inside.

Courier grabbed his arm before they entered and looked hard at his friends face. Boone glared back defiantly and after what seemed like an age, Courier nodded his head and released him.

"I get it." Courier said, walking inside.

Boone looked up at Max one last time, watching her settle in her perch above before following him.

They were met by Cade as soon as the door closed.

"Dissociative Disorder." Cade blurted.

"Bless you…?" Courier said with a raised eyebrow.

Cade titled his head questioningly, he obviously hadn't heard the conversation where Max had mentioned that old world custom. Cade shook his head in dismissal of it whatever it was.

"She has a dissociative disorder… I think bought on by extreme stress." He went on to explain, his eyes going bright at the thought of a new affliction for him to explore.

Zac looked up from the pack he was rifling through. He had a MRE in one hand purchased from the market in Cedar City and his box of gumdrops in the other. "I'm not an expert on mental disorders or anything but my dad had a few books on this sort of thing. The first time you guys saw her, I don't know… black out… was when she watched Danse die, right?" He took a bite of the jerky he pulled from the pack next and chewed thoughtfully. "Too much for her, shut down her head while she processed."

Cade nodded and said "A bit simplistic but close enough."

"I was summarising in laymans terms for those less gifted than myself." Zac grinned.

"So, just for me then." MacCready grimaced as he dropped his pack tiredly and flopped onto the floor. Zac patted him on the shoulder in mock sympathy and offered him a gumdrop.

"Most of the literature that the Brotherhood has is about PTSD but I remember one of them mentioning this. It may even be caused by PTSD… She was in the military, right? Served at Anchorage back in the old days?" Cade looked thoughtful. "Not sure what happened back in town, maybe being disorientated was enough. She didn't black out at the slavers camp and you'd think that'd be pretty traumatic."

"It's just a theory of course, I haven't seen it happen first hand, but I have seen the after affects, she doesn't even recognise us." Cade continued. "She doesn't remember what happened during the event... from what happened in Cedar City… I don't even think she knows what's happening to her, that something is happening at all"

"So why don't you ask her." Boone snapped from his position by the door. "Instead of talking about her behind her back."

Courier nodded, agreeing with his friend. Last time they did something like this, he ended up with a broken nose, something he didn't want repeated.

"Because." Cade said cautiously and with exaggerated patience. "I want to see her enter the state, what it would take for her to…"

"Wait." Maxson interjected angrily, and Boone straightened from his slouched position against the wall. "You just said trauma bought it on. You _want_ to see her hurt?" His face was accusing.

"Of course not, Elder. I want to see what we are dealing with, that's all." Cade put his hands up defensively.

"In the Institute she tore apart a dozen Coursers with her bare hands while in that state." Maxson pointed out. "You saw her after that; she didn't know you… or me, or anyone. You want to put her there again? What if she hurts one of us? Kills one of us? Forget the one of us she kills, what do you think she'd feel if she came out of it and saw what she had done? Leave it alone."

"She knew Danse." Cade said bluntly. "She knew Boone."

Maxson frowned but didn't say anything more.

"Look, all I'm saying is, if we knew the triggers..."

"For fucks sake. Talk To _Her_." Boone bellowed suddenly. His patience had run out. He pushed himself off the wall and came to stand in front of Cade, his sunglasses gripped tightly in one hand and the other hand balled into a tight fist.

Cade didn't back down and Courier was once again impressed with the Proctor. Boone could be an intimidating guy. He himself had been on the receiving end of a few of Boone punches and he was a big guy. Cade had to look up at him but the Proctor kept his nerve and looked Boone right in the eyes.

"If she knew it was a test, she wouldn't be scared." Cade said evenly. "If it was even hinted that there was no danger, she wouldn't be scared and it wouldn't trigger anything."

"Then it can't be anything that would hurt her." MacCready spoke quietly and everyone turned towards him in surprise, he was another guy that barely spoke up. "She won't budge if she's hurt… She wouldn't give a stuff, you'll need to hurt someone she cares about."

Cade stepped back from Boone, putting a little more space between him and the sniper… the guy was radiating angry heat and Cade needed to think.

"If you want my theory," Zac said from his seat on the floor, he was twirling the faded paper wrapping from his found gumdrops in his fingers and staring at it absently. "She wigged out back in town because of Boone."

All of the mens eyes swung towards him.

"She was wearing his NCR Beret. I reckon the Legion boys that tried to accost her may have said something or done something to threaten Boone." Zac elaborated without looking at them. "She was disorientated and not thinking clearly… it may have been enough to trigger her… I dunno, just a thought."

"Why Boone…?" Maxson asked his eyes narrowing on the sniper who was still standing in the centre of the room.

Courier sighed to himself, he knew this was coming. He edged his way towards the young Elder.

"Calm down, mate." Zac said with a tinge of exasperation in his voice. "It could have been over any of us… she cares about us all."

"That's right." Cade said quickly. "Umm… it was Danses death that triggered the first time and she recognised him in the aftermath… if Boone was the trigger the second time, he would be the one she recognised. If it had been MacCready, he would have been the one she recognised. That makes sense. I think"

"So basically, we have to make sure one of us in in mortal danger so Max can relapse and save whoever it is without killing the rest of us… this is going to go real well." Courier grunted.

"I can talk to her about it when I see it for myself." Cade assured Boone who still looked angry. He pretty much always looked angry.

"This is a bad idea." Boone snapped and walked back to his spot on the wall. He leaned against it with a thud and slapped his glasses back over his eyes.

"Boys." Maxs voice rang out urgently over Maxsons Pipboy and they all looked at it, their eyes alert.

"About a dozen hostiles inbound, about two miles north... we're moving again."

"That was the least restful rest stop I think I've ever had." Zac complained tiredly, hoisting his pack onto his shoulders and picking up his Perforator.

"We can outrun them, they won't go into Zion." Courier said striding to the door confidently.

The rest of the men filed out of the door behind him to meet Max outside and to head out as quickly as possible. Maxson hung back for a beat and watched Craig Boone duck out of the doorway, his azure eyes icy…


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51 – Beginners Guide to Zion**

The road sign shone like a beacon in the distance. It proclaimed that they were entering Zion National Park and there were long faded photographs of deep canyons and happy families supping at fully laden picnic tables while a cartoon bear advised that they watch out for fires. It was like being pointed in the direction of a utopia. Frankly, Courier would have settled for anywhere that they could face the growing mass of legionaries behind them… somewhere with good walls and a bottle neck entrance. This though, was so much better.

The seven travellers stumbled exhaustedly over the invisible line that found them in safe territory, or so the Courier told them. Boone and he seemed to instantly relax though the other five kept their shoulders bunched and their fingers on their triggers. It was all well and good to take Couriers word that one guy could keep the Legion horde at bay but it seemed that they should be safe rather than sorry… or dead.

They didn't slow their pace, quite the opposite. Courier moved further out in front, pushing them even harder. Boone kept to the back of the pack and kept watch over his shoulder, though in everyones mind he seemed more interested in what lay ahead as well, though not with the same type of ease and enthusiasm as the Courier.

It seemed the boss had a destination in mind other than the general 'Zion' area.

They were well within the boundaries of Zion when Boone called out to the Courier that the Legion had crossed the border. Couriers lips twisted into a smug smirk and he lengthened his strides. The group crested a small rise and before them laid the splendour of Zion… and a very large Howitzer… manned by a small army of tribals.

The heavy artillery recoiled with an ear splitting boom and sent a massive projectile into the air and towards the northern border, more specifically into the midst of the pursuing Legion force. The resulting explosion sent body parts flying about park in all directions, along with bits of armour and flashes of crimson settling in the crater left there. The Legion flinched back in terror as the Howitzer reloaded, ready once again to unleash hell on the encroachers, those who dared set foot in the Dead Horses territory, or rather, Joshua Grahams territory.

The Howitzer rang out a second time and after the dust settled and the echo of the explosion died, so did the Legion pursuit of the seven, somewhat dazed, travellers. The same force of Zion natives that met them, saw the Legion back over the border of the park and waited until their retreat was definitive. The Cedar City garrison and the Legion patrols it had collected on the way, or at least what was left of them, were long gone, fleeing back to the north and out of range of the big gun and the howling savages of Zion.

Those unfamiliar with the Dead Horses eyed their 'hosts' warily. They looked to be tribals, like the Hang Dogs had been, though _these_ tribals were well armed, if not well armoured. Their rifles were in pristine condition and the fact that they had a fully operational Howitzer on their northern border spoke very highly of their military might. Yet they were barely dressed and painted like something out of an old world book. It was a strange combination.

One of the Tribals made his way towards the Courier who had taken the opportunity to sit himself in the dirt and take a few breaths. He leaned forwards with his knees bent his head hanging down. He was long distance runner, not really all that keen in sprinting and the last few hundred yards had drained him. The tribal squatted down next to him and slapped him heartily on the back with a laugh.

"You have been in Zion for only a few minutes and yet you almost start a war, my friend." The Tribal chuckled familiarly, his English was clipped and accented though none of the East Coasters could pick what the accent actually was. "… only you could convince the Legion to give chase into our lands. You have my thanks, the day was getting dreary."

"No Problem." Courier panted with a wry grin. "It's my pleasure to keep you entertained."

The Tribal man stood up and extended his hand down to help the Courier stand also. The Courier allowed himself to be hauled to his feet once again. He looked back at his team who looked dead on their feet and turned back to the tribal.

"We've been on the run for a while, Two-Bears, can we impose on your hospitality for a spell?" Courier asked. "I will check in with Joshua after I've had a bit of time to catch my breath, if that's okay."

"You needn't ask, my friend, you are always welcome, though you won't see Joshua for some while, he is down in Angel Cave at this time." The tribal finally examined the Couriers companions, taking special note of Elder Maxson and Proctor Cade. His eyes swept over Max briefly and he looked hard at Zac and MacCready. He finally looked to Boone and nodded in recognition and walked over to him.

"You look well, Kills-From-Far." He greeted Boone extending his arm to the sniper. Boone took hold of the tribals forearm.

"You too, Two-Bears-High-Fiving." He said gravely in return.

"You must tell me who your people are. I would know them." Two-Bears said looking back over at the rest of the group as the Courier joined them. "You have Brotherhood with you and a lady. We will meet them and then see to your comfort."

Courier led Two-Bears over to the group, who straightened a little as they were introduced.

"This is Elder Arthur Maxson of the Brotherhood of Steel as you guessed already, and this is Proctor Dylan Cade, the Chief Medical Officer. This is General Maxine Everton of the Commonwealth Minutemen and Major Robert MacCready one of her senior officers. And this is Zachary Hobson. The Lone Wanderer."

Two-Bears gasped and paled as he stared at Zac, taking in every aspect of his appearance from the truckers cap with the nudey girl on it, to the leather armour with a peeling name tag that now read; 'Hello, my name is Snowflake', the automatic rifle flung over his shoulder and the laser pistol at his left hip and the machete and thirst zapper at his right. He even inspected the boots that he was wearing with the bright purple laces and toothy grins drawn on the toes.

The Lone Wanderer.

Zac sent the awestruck tribal a winning grin, "Hey." He said in what everyone had come to categorise as his 'Yeah, I know I'm awesome' voice."

"How have they heard of Zac?" Cade asked quietly of no one in particular.

Zac turned to give him the 'Please… everyone knows me' look and Cade rolled his eyes at the younger man.

Two-Bears opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out but a small gust of air. Courier pursed his lips and snapped his fingers in front of the tribals face to get him back from la-la land.

Two-Bears blinked, shook his head and then grinned widely.

"Yah ah Tahg." He said softly and he inclined his head to all of them in turn, blushing brightly when he came back to Zac. "Welcome to Zion, I am Two-Bears-High-Fiving, I am from the Dead Horses. You are currently in Sorrows land but I will welcome you on their behalf."

"Your name is awesome." Zac grinned, earning himself another flush of colour from the tribal.

"Y-You must be tired from your chase." Two-Bears stuttered on, clearly overwhelmed by the Wanderers presence. "You must however wait a short while longer before you have your comforts. Half Mouse Cave is to the south and the first place you may find suitable respite."

"Why are the Horses manning the Northern Border?" Courier asked looking around for any sign of a Sorrows tribe member.

Two-Bears looked back at him sadly. "White-Bird was taken from them and they are laying him in the burial grounds this day." He said mournfully and he sighed at the stricken look on the Couriers face. "It was a sickness."

Courier sighed and nodded. "I'm sure I will be able to give my condolences personally soon." He shook himself like a dog and focused back on Two-Bears. "I know the way to Half Mouse and I wouldn't want to pull you away for your duties here."

"Pfft, my friend. I will lead you. The Legion are unlikely to return and if they do we have many rounds to send them in greeting." Two-Bears began muttering to another tribal in a broken language that sound like a cross between German and nonsense. "Come," he said gesturing for the team to follow him.

The tribal known a Two-Bears lead them south, and then down into the canyons. He almost skipped along, paying no heed to the treacherous drop of the canyon walls or the unstable scree that was piled up along the narrow paths. It was carelessness born of familiarity. He chatted animatedly with the Courier as he walked and cast frequent and shy looks back at Zac. He was obviously pumping the Courier for information about the guy.

Boone walked next to Max and Max had to ask him about the name.

"It's my tribal name." He responded shortly.

"You're a member of these Dead Horses?" Max asked with a raised eyebrow and a leery smirk. "Where's your loin cloth and body paint?"

He gave a small smile but didn't reply.

"What do you think my tribal name would be?" She asked absently. "Kills-From-Further?" She grinned.

Again, with the smile and silence.

"How do you become a member?" She persisted, she was going to get a conversation out if this guy if it killed her.

"They dose you up on hallucinogenics and send you on a quest." He grunted quietly.

"What was your quest?" Max prodded.

"I was sent to kills a swarm of Cazadors." He said.

Max waited for him to expand on the story but he stayed quiet. She nudged him impatiently and he glared at her.

"I was off my tits, I don't remember what happened." He snapped.

"You suck at stories." She sulked.

He grunted discontentedly and went quiet again and she thought that they were done.

"I guess I must have taken them out with my rifle." He sighed. "It's hazy." He humpfed. "Ronnie was sent to find a baby bighorner when she was initiated… she was so wasted, she got into a fight with a canyon wall. They called her Punches-Like-Rock."

He smiled again… wow, three smiles in a row, that had to be some kind of record.

"Who's Ronnie?" Max asked quickly, her emerald eyes narrowing.

Boone didn't answer as the Courier announced from out in front that they were at their destination.

The group were led into the small cave entrance and found themselves in a good sized cavern, decked out with four beds and a pile of supplies. There was a cold campfire which was being bought back to life by Two-Bears, surrounded by three logs which were obviously used as seating.

As the fire was rekindled back to a roaring blaze they dropped their packs with a group sigh of relief. Two-Bears stood up after her threw a few decent logs on the fire and turned to the group.

"There are only four beds though there are sleeping bags. You can fight to see who gets what." He said with a warm smile, including them all. "You must help yourself to whatever food you require." He turned back to Courier." I will lead you to the Dead Horses Camp in the morning when the Sorrows return from their burial grounds, and from there you can go to Joshua Graham. Rest well, my friend. I will return at sun up."

Two-Bears nodded at each of them in turn by way of farewell and sank into a deep bow when he came to Zac. Zac grinned at the tribal and held up his hand, palm out, waiting for Two- Bears to understand. He received a hearty high five from Two-Bears who laughed, flushed bright red and hurried out of the cave in a fluster.

"See now, I keep telling you guys I'm famous, but you're always like 'no, Zac'…" He chuckled to himself and plopped down on one of the beds. "I'm a VIP, I get a bed." He started to rifle through his pack.

The rest of them glared at the Lone Wanderer, he was going to be hell to live with while they were here. Three more beds though and six folks.

"I'll take the floor." Courier opted, not wanting to look soft.

Boone grunted as well, going over to the supply cache and digging out three sleeping bags. MacCready, Maxson and Cade all exchanged looks.

"I'll take the floor too." Max said, taking a sleeping bag from Boone.

"I'm not sleeping in a bed when there is a lady on the floor." Cade protested.

"Oh please, Dylan." Max rolled her eyes. "really?"

MacCready sat down on one of the beds and leaned back to watch the fight about to take place. Maxson had been about to give up his bed too but he was now content to take a bed as well and watch his Proctor and the General duke it out, not for the bed but for the right to sleep on the floor. The others rolled their eyes and started to prep for the night ahead.

Max and Cade rolled up their sleeves and the verbal tussle began.


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52 – Advanced Guide to Zion**

Max awoke to a strong set of arms clamped securely around her.

Dylan Cades arms.

After lengthy, loud and terribly amusing debate, the Proctor and the General had amicably decided to share the last bed in Half Mouse Cave. Max loved arguing with Cade. He had a fast mind, a wide vocabulary and a certain creative, oratory flair that left the rest of the men seem wanting in that regard. Max just liked to ague. It was why she had fallen back on the law when her military career ended. Though in this type of argument, she tended to swear a lot and frequently fell back on dramatics, which made the guys roll their eyes and laugh at some of her more outlandish claims of completely made up grievances.

As it was, Max would have been content to stay where she was now for the rest of the day. Cade didn't snore, he smelled good and she was fairly certain that he wouldn't try to feel her up. She was very comfortable as his little spoon; she was warm and his arm provided a satisfactory amount of support to her head and neck without being overly firm. The other arm held her tightly across her torso, her arm was resting comfortably on top of it. One of Cades legs had also found its way over top of hers as well, effectively cocooning her and confining her to the comfy bed. It was nice. She hadn't woken up in a mans embrace for a long time.

She slowly eased open one of her eyes and found herself looking directly at Courier, MacCready, Zac, Maxson and Boone, all sitting side by side on one of the logs by the fire pit watching her with amused lexpressions on each of their faces. She snuggled in closer to Cade and gave them all a grin.

MacCready smirked at her. "Morning wood?" He asked facetiously with a chuckle, causing the others to cackle along with him quietly.

"Twenty caps says he acts like he's snuggling with a deathclaw when he wakes up?" Zac chimed in. Maxson nodded and they shook on it

She sent them a snide 'puh-lease' look and flipped them all off.

It was then that Cade began to stir, he nuzzled into Maxs hair and hummed in pleasure at the nice fragrance, before his mind came to wakeful clarity and his eyes snapped open. It would be fair to say that it had been even longer since Dylan Cade had woken with a woman in his arms. He froze and took on a decided Radstag in the spotlight look. The guys all burst out laughing and Max couldn't resist a chuckle at Cades embarrassment.

"Good Morning, Dylan." She said sweetly as the Proctor tried to unwind himself from her.

"Morning." He mumbled sheepishly, sitting up clumsily and thanking the stars when Two-Bears chose that moment to enter the cave and call a hearty "Goot!"

Courier got to his feet to met the friendly tribal man at the entrance.

"I trust you slept well." Two-Bears smiled as he walked in, his eyes fell on Max and Cade untangling themselves from each other on the bed. "Some better than others I see." He grinned. "This surprises me… I thought the lady was mated with Kills-From-Far."

The air in the room suddenly went still and Boones eyes opened wide with surprise. Zac let out a short nervous snort of laughter. Maxsons eyes narrowed.

Two-Bears noticed nothing and shrugged his shoulders dismissively. "It is a long walk to Dead Horses Camp. Hurry, Sohl Tyeh!" He clapped his hands together to hurry the group along. "We have much ground to cover today, I move swiftly, you move like big horner dung rolling down a shallow decline." He laughed uproariously at himself. "Nah ash ne wit deer... but not really, make haste."

The group collected their belongings and formed up to leave the cave. Boone approached Cade and handed him a small canvas bag containing some kind of trail mix to eat as he had obviously slept through breakfast and then he turned to Max and did the same.

"Your turn to cook again, I see." Max grinned, popping a pinyon nut in her mouth and chewing slowly.

"Hmmm." He nodded in assent and much to Maxs surprise, he leaned in and placed a soft and familiar kiss on her temple. She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"It's not like no one knows, Max." He whispered. His lips twitched up in a half smile and he turned away to find his pack.

She stood beside the bed frowning for a moment. Damn Boone for this, she thought hotly, chancing a look around the cave as everyone bustled to ready themselves. Maxson was the only other person not moving. His eyebrows seemed to have permanently migrated towards his hairline, his eyes were wide and he looked genuinely shocked as he gazed over at her as he had caught the entire casual but intimate display. She watched him take a deep breath, quirk his lip in a near pout and turn away from her. She knew she had just broken his heart and it was finally time to face the music.

* * *

There was no need to set point while in Zion, so the group just sort of wandered together in a pack behind Two-Bears and with a small contingent of Dead Horses. Zac walked up front with his new best friend and regaled him with stories about his exploits, real and imaginary. Cade seemed to have struck up a conversation with a tribal with a good knowledge of local flora and fauna and they were in deep discussion about remedies and potential hazards. They spent a lot of time flicking through Cades pipboy looking for references and cross references. Courier and MacCready had also found buddies among the tribals and they walked along happily chatting.

Boone lagged behind the group, his eyes as always hidden behind his aviators but he saw everything going on around him especially between Max and Maxson who were walking ahead of him. Max, in a kind of subdued nervousness and Maxson in sullen silence, his back ridged and shoulders tight. Boone was certain that Maxson would say something soon and he wanted to be sure he was on hand to defuse the potential time bomb when needed, but he didn't want to intrude.

It was not until well after they party had stopped for lunch at the North Fork Campground that Maxson finally spoke. Two-Bears laughter floated back over the group as Zac told him the story about a vault that only had one guy in it and a crate full of puppets. It wasn't supposed to be a funny story, but Two-Bears was taking it as such. Maxson cast a sideways glance at Max who was still by his side.

"So." He said more sharply than intended. He cursed himself silently, he had been going over what he was going to say to her in his head all morning. He did not want to sound like a petulant child who had lost his favourite toy.

"… sooo…" He tried again, more softly.

Max looked around, admiring the admittedly gorgeous scenery in the canyons and pretended that she didn't hear him. She could face down an entire army of feral ghouls with nothing by a butter knife and a smile but when it came to talking about _stuff_ , she was an utter coward.

"Max, are you serious?" Maxson sighed at her non-engagement.

She gazed down at her boots as they kicked up the red dust with every step and exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry, Arthur." She said discretely, aware of the group ahead of them.

"How long has that even been going on?" He asked, his deep voice low.

She looked back up at him, no wanting to disclose the actual time frame. "I didn't want to hurt you." She said instead, "I said that I wasn't even thinking about that sort of thing but… I don't know, I guess he's just my type... or something."

"Your type are dickheads…got it." Maxson snorted disdainfully.

"Listen, Arthur." She said quietly, still very conscious of all of the people around them and Boone not far behind. "You are a leader, you have a Military organisation at your back and your about to go Nationwide. You do not want someone like me at your side. I don't even like the Brotherhood of Steel. You need someone young and dedicated to the cause like you, someone level headed. We both know I am far from level headed, my head is very much askew."

His lips twitched at the corner.

"You and I don't work. You are young, smart, strong and incredibly sexy but you have to know that even though we get on well, we don't work."

"And the two of you _do_ work?" Maxson asked, he clenched his jaw to temper his tone. "How long? Was it before or after you said you weren't… what was it?… 'weren't pursuing any romantic interests for the duration of this trip'?"

Max chewed on her lip guiltily at being called out.

"You know what, it was before the scavvers compound, he was glued to your side there but after the Hang Dog camp where you were glued to mine." He said bitterly, damn it he was slipping into petulant child territory. He sighed. "I guess it doesn't matter, it's not like I'll have a choice of who my partner would be… once I'm High Elder anyway."

Max reached out and took his hand. "I am sorry Arthur. I truly am."

"Yeah." He said, his tone lacking any feeling. "I suppose everyone gets jilted once in their life."

"I'm not jilting you." Max protested.

"No… what did Zac call it?" Maxson frowned trying to think. "You're friend zoning me." He smiled gently. "It's okay. It was dumb anyway, me pining away after you, just because you used me for sex once and stole my innocence."

He actually cracked a smile. Max wasn't sure if she was happy with that analysis of their relationship.

"I am going to listen to Zac tell the story about the Garys again." Maxson said suddenly. He released her hand and strode forwards and away from her without looking back.

"Okay… ah, good talk, I guess." Max called after him. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of the conversation. It sort of felt unfinished, like nothing whatsoever had been resolved and that nothing had really been said. She glared at the ground in front of her in thought.

She felt a rough, strong hand slip into hers and she looked up at Boone who was now walking beside her. He didn't say anything but squeezed her fingers encouragingly, just content to be by her side.

By late afternoon, the crowd entered a high walled, bottleneck gorge that Two-Bears identified as Eastern Virgin, they had to form up single file to squeeze through in some parts and wade through waist deep water in others. The East coasters had spent most of their walk through the canyons of Zion in open mouthed awe at its beauty the rest of the time cursing at its step climbs and its watercourses which were only passable by wading or swimming. MacCready was the most vocal about the water, he hated getting wet and he didn't like to swim. He complained long and loud to anyone that would listen.

Cade had somehow managed to stuff half of the wildlife Zion had to offer into his pack and was trying to talk Zac into lugging a few hands full of leaves and flowers for further study. Zac was resistant, conveniently forgetting the amount of his junk the others had carried in their packs for him, sometimes unwittingly, over the course of the trip. It turned into an entertaining bickering match between the two gifted orators, ultimately ending in Zac opening his pack and stuffing the plants in it just to shut Cade up and with Maxson encouraging them both to play nice and remind them they were in company.

Courier had taken the lead with Two-Bears, largely ignoring the rest of the team and Max and Boone trailed behind, Max having persuaded Boone to piggy back her over the deeper water hazards, which was going very well for her until they exited the gorge and he dumped her unceremoniously in the deepest waterhole he could find with a satisfied smirk on his face. Max, of course, didn't take it very well and tackled him to the sandy ground and proceeded to clamp him in a painful knee bar until he apologised, which he steadfastly refused to do.

The Dead Horses found their impromptu guests to be hilarious and they shout encouragement to Max as she twisted Boones body parts like he was a pretzel. Courier eventually pushed through the tribals and picked Max up by the scruff of the neck, dragging her off his friend and standing her on her feet some distance away.

"General, I hate to interrupt this lovefest." He said sarcastically, glaring at her sodden and dirty appearance, flushed face and blazing eyes. "but, I'd like you to meet Joshua Graham."

Max blinked at him in horror. She quickly smoothed her hand over her sopping and dishevelled hair and turned slowly to meet the man that held the entire wasteland at bay.

 **AN:** ** _Goot_** **= Good (day),** ** _Sohl Tyeh_** **= Let's go,** ** _Nah ash ne wit deer_** **= I'm playing with you (and from the previous chapter** ** _Yah ah Tahg_** **– Hello)**

 **AN Part 2: Mockingburns – Pfft! Fanart? I can't draw for shit and I don't think my arse stick figures would do the characters a lick of justice. However, I would like to explore the possibility of some cover art for this story. I have no idea how one goes about that… any suggestions?**


	53. Chapter 53

**AN: OK So, biggest ever ups, props and kudos to Graysongirl13 for her cover art for this story. Apparently, it's like 'not finished' or whatever but I loves it so much, it had to go up ASAP. Lovelovelovelove. Anyhooo, new chapter… who cares, I have art!**

 **Chapter 53 – Joshua Graham and the Dead Horses**

Max was in no way prepared for the intensity in the guys eyes. It bordered on maniacal but was just a little too sharp to tip it over the edge of dangerous insanity. They were blue. Like Zacs, like RJs and like Maxsons, but there were so many layers of glacial frigidity in them that even Maxsons piercing azure orbs came off as puppy dog like in comparison. He also didn't seem to blink which was a quality that unnerved Max just a little bit. They drilled into her face, making deep cuts right through to her mind, taking in every detail about her, possibly even leeching out her private thoughts. Max could have gotten into a staring match with the guy but she honestly didn't know if she could hold that gaze without her eyeballs drying out. Instead, she quirked her lips up into her familiar lopsided smile and let her eyes wander over him in turn.

Joshua Graham was a tall man, as tall as the Courier, in fact. He was not as lean nor as muscular, though his body gave the impression that in years before he was a man of great strength and prowess. Max instantly saw the bearing of an officer, and a soldier in his erect stance.

He was dressed plainly, dark trousers and a close to white collarless shirt. His nod to personal security was an old Pre war Kevlar vest, with a long defunct SWAT Logo over his heart and a Colt .45 holstered at his hip.

She was also not prepared for the scars and she wished that someone had told her about them in advance. She was sure she kept her face unreadable as she surveyed the wreckage that were once his features. Her first reaction was to wince and think to herself. 'Holy Crap, that must have tickled.' But she didn't wince, she stayed impassive as she took in the miracle of internal fortitude that stood before her. What other than a miracle could have survived what had caused the scaring and kept him on this side of sanity, albeit tenuously?

He kept them uncovered, wore them like a badge of honour. The skin on his bald head puckered and whorled like everything on him had melted, distorted and then solidified in the wrong way. He had no eyebrows, no discernible features that could detract from those eyes. And with no features came the impression of no emotions. Something that made Maxs blood run cold.

Max had confessed to Danse long ago that she also had the ability to switch off her emotions. It made her an effective and calculating killer. It was something that had been forced upon her as part of her training. No remorse, no guilt, no mercy. It was an ability that had died with him, she was never again able to reclaim that detached coldness from the moment she had seen her lovers body hit the floor of the Institute. Wheather real or imagined, she saw something cold in Joshua Graham and it reminded her so much of herself before Danse, that it scared her.

Her quirked up smile stayed in place, her eyes impassive and mildly curious.

"General Everton." Joshuas welcomed her with an inclination of his head. His voice was crisp and commanding, deep and pleasant but lacked the warmth that should have been present to confirm his humanity.

"Mr Graham." She replied, her voice strong and carrying the weight of her title. She inclined her head in return and wished she could back up the formality of her tone with a good visual impression rather than the one she was probably giving. She was soaked to the skin and covered with fine red dust from her dunking in the water and subsequent wrestling match with Boone. Her hair had been sticking up at all angles… she felt the need to address the problem, to explain herself to him. "Please forgive my bedraggled appearance. I had hope to purvey a more professional and dare I say, authoritive presence on our first meeting. I did not think we would be meeting you so soon."

Joshua gave a gentle smile, that in his ruined face seemed more like a snarl. "There is nothing to forgive, ma'am. I saw your struggles and commend your prowess in battle. However insincere the fight was, it was good to see the NCR, once again, put in its place." He looked over her shoulder and nodded at whomever was behind her "NCR…" he greeted coldly.

"Legion…" Came Boones distinct growl in return.

Max felt Boones fingers curl around her shoulder. He was very hands-on now that their relationship was out in the open.

"And now you've met everyone in our party." The Courier rumbled from beside her. "We hope we don't cause more trouble for you with our presence here."

Joshua turned his full attention to the Courier. "The Bulls Legion is more than welcome to come and test us here." He said firmly, "Zion will not bow and will not fall." His epic eyes burned with an almost religious fervour as he spoke. "Perhaps we should send the lady back to Cedar City to draw more of them back to us and we can show them the combined might of Zion and the Boomers."

So, Courier had told him about her blanked out adventure in Cedar City… that's awesome, he must think her doubly unhinged.

Courier was used to dealing with the leader of the Dead Horses and swiftly drew the focus of the conversation back away from war and vengeance.

"I was hoping to see Follows-Chalk." Courier interjected benignly.

Joshuas tilted his head to the side. "He is no longer with us." He said shortly.

Couriers eyes opened wide in surprise and Joshua clarified with a bark of harsh laughter.

"I did not mean to imply that he was dead. He is at Nellis with his new wife." Joshua took in Courier dazed look. "You should not look so surprised my friend, you were the one to encourage him to go out into the world.. he was bound to land somewhere interesting." He looked around at the assembled faces of his people and the Eastcoasters. "We can talk more of current events after we return to the camp and get you all settled and refreshed. I'm sure the General and the Elder would like the opportunity to clean up."

Maxs eyes found Maxson on the other side of the Courier and she raised her eyebrow at him. He seemed to have acquired a large red mud hand print on his face and his normally impeccable hair was dishevelled and liberally sprinkled with what looked like flower petals. He did not look pleased. Zac on the other hand, who was standing not far behind him, looked about ready to burst with suppressed laughter. Max had obviously missed something while she was dealing to Boone for his callous disregard for her state of dryness.

Maxson muttered his thanks to Joshua and inclined his head regally. Joshua Graham turned from them all and led them away without looking back.

"I can't take you lot anywhere, can I?" Courier murmured with a grin, before setting off after their host.

"What happened to you?" Max asked Maxson as they fell instep behind Courier. Boone had taken her hand on the other side and walked along with her in silence.

"Zac and Cade became heated… I was trying to separate them." was all he said.

Max threw a look over her shoulder at Zac who had fallen in behind them with Cade and MacCready. He was humming happily to himself. Cade, on the other hand, had red mud painted over both of his hands and he looked rather smug, a very strange expression on Cade, the normally reserved Proctor. MacCready was still looking pissed off that he had been made to get wet.

The group followed along behind their host following the canyon walls until they came to a camp that looked to be only semi permanent, the few buildings made from reclaimed lumber and canvas. The main habitations were actually situated in the caves above and outside of the Eastern Virgin Gorge. The group followed Joshua Graham to a central firepit outside of a large tent, where he stopped and turned to face them all.

"You will sleep here." Joshua said, looking pointedly at the tent flat. "There are showers there." He pointed over to a row of wooden stalls by the water. "and we will eat promptly at seven." He was a man used to issuing orders not mingling with guests, he was clearly unsettled in their presence.

He turned his attention suddenly to the Courier. "I have news that you may not be aware of, things are not all well in the Mojave. You should go in fully briefed and prepared. We will discuss it after dinner." Joshua turned again, this time to Two Bears who was standing respectfully nearby. "I expect a full report of what happened on the Northern Border, but see to our guests comfort first."

Two-Bears lowered his head in acquiesce and kept his eyes downcast until Joshua Graham turned and walked away without another word. The group watched him go and there was a murmur or agreement when Zac piped up.

"Phew… that guy was intense." He mumbled, "I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you _do not_ want to piss him off."

Two-Bears grinned widely at the culminative awe that hovered over the team in Joshuas wake. "No, you do not. Joshua Graham is a great man, but not a good one." He barked out a laugh at their discomfiture and slapped the Courier on the shoulder. "Come," He opened the tent flap for them to all enter.

They all filed in, except Max who made straight for the showers. Seeing her veer in direction Boone started after her, only to be hauled back by a strong hand gripping onto his pack. "Nope… down boy… stay." Courier directed, with an exasperated grin.

Boone glowered at him for a moment before casting an almost wistful look over at Max who was already shedding her armour.

"Just because this is all out in the open, you don't need to rub it in everyones face… leave her be." Courier smirked, dragging his friend into the tent and letting the flap fall. Boone shrugged out of his 'former' friends grasp and stomped over to a free cot.

"OK." Maxson said, turning to the Courier after dropping his pack down on his own cot. "Tell me everything about Joshua Graham." He ordered. Courier might have ignored the note of command from the young Elder but Zac, Cade and MacCready all looked over at him expectantly too. Courier glanced at Two-Bears, who shrugged unconcerned.

"Boone called him Legion…What's that about?" Zac asked, sitting on the edge of his bunk and looking expectantly at first Courier, then Two-Bears, and then Boone.

Courier sighed "We should wait for Max."

MacCready snorted, he was always up for a story. "You know she'll be in there all night, right?"

"Alright… Uhhh." Courier shrugged off his duster and pack and sat himself down on the ground cross legged and scratched at his scalp under his hat. "Right, so, it might come as a shock to y'all to know that Joshua is one of the founding members of the Legion." He started. "He was a missionary 'til he met Sallow, the first Caesar."

Bonne grunted at the mention of the Caesars name. He turned his back on the group and began to clean his rifle, he'd heard this story, he knew how it ended.

Courier continued. "He was the first Legate, but uh, well, things didn't go so well for the Legion when he led them in the first battle for Hoover Dam against the NCR. It was a crushing loss to the legion and Caesar showed his displeasure by having old Joshua lit on fire and chucked into the Grand Canyon."

Each of the men listening made hissing sounds and made faces; grimaces and sneers, to show their uneasiness at the thought of that. Courier grinned.

"Yeah… but see Joshua, he ain't that easy to kill. He clawed his way outta that canyon and made his way back to New Canaan, tried to be a missionary again, I guess, but well, Caesar had an inkling he survived and sent a tribe called the White Legs to destroy the city. Joshua and a guy named Daniel led the New Canaan refugees here." He sighed, "That's sorta where I came in."

"Long story short… shit happened and Joshua held the canyons in the end. Before I left, I advised him to interact with the world outside of Zion. He sent a scout out and the scout met a group of former vault dwellers who have holed up at Nellis. He struck up a treaty with the Boomers… that's what the Nellis folks call themselves… and well, now they are a major force to be reckoned with… or at least would be if they wanted to. Boomers stay in Nellis and the Horses stay in Zion, and they are content like that. Follows-Chalk, the scout that Joshua sent out… He sorta just runs back and forth keeping everyone up to date." Courier shrugged. "That's it really, I ain't much of a storyteller."

"I get the feeling you glanced over a whole lotta stuff with the whole 'long story short' business" Zac guessed with a grin.

"Yeah." Courier said, but didn't elaborate. "Anyhow, Joshua is _obsessive_ in his desire to protect his people, both the Horses and the Sorrows in the North. He used his experiences with the Legion to help these folks. Taught them how to fight. He will do anything to protect them… I mean anything. Like Two-Bears said… he ain't a _good_ man."

"Now. As much as I'd like to sit here and gab about our host. I am hungry and I want a shower too." Courier hauled himself to his feet, stooped to collect his duster and pack and dropped them on the closest cot. "Joshua also wants to talk to me and I ain't inclined to keep the man waiting."

 **AN: Didn't spell and grammar check and I don't have a Beta, sorry. R &R if you want. I like to know what you all think. I have a kind of idea where to go next...**


	54. Chapter 54

**AN: This is a talk-talk chapter setting up what will happen in the Mojave, we're almost there now, just a few more little items to cover… Also, the last chapter was really just an intro to Joshua. I like Joshua.**

 **Chapter 54 – All is Not Well**

Joshua Grahams presence made the meal unwholesomely quiet and a more than a little tense.

While the meal seemed a casual affair; the East Coasters, the Dead Horses, visiting Sorrows and Joshua eating alfresco around the central fire pit outside of the visitors tent, everyone was on their best behaviour and conversation was subdued. The Dead Horses, excluding Two-Bears, were reserved and followed the lead of their war chief. Two-Bears was the exception in that he completely ignored the atmosphere and loudly peppered the Lone Wanderer with questions and laughed heartily and completely without guile. Max sat beside Joshua and she discovered quickly that he was not the dinner conversation type, after the first glare she left him to eat in silence. She was aware of Boone eyes on her the whole time, he sat on the opposite side of the fire and she had no doubt that if she gave any indication that she was in distress, he would put a bullet in Joshua Graham and spark an all out, one man war on the Dead Horses.

Courier sat on Joshuas other side, Maxson should have been close by, being the other high ranking official, but somehow he had managed to sit himself as far away from them as possible. He talked quietly with Cade… it looked like Cade was getting a discrete dressing down by his young commanding officer, at least at first, then Maxson had patted the Proctor on the shoulder and chuckled about something or other. Max guessed it had something to do with the little 'muddy handprint' incident. It still looked weird to see the youthful Elder order around the older, almost father figure in Cade.

Dinner took an agonisingly long time. Joshua insisted on chewing his food slowly and meticulously as his unblinking eyes scanned over the crowd before him. Though as uncomfortable as that was, the tone changed very quickly, jarringly so. When he decided he was done eating, everyone was done eating and now they needed to talk.

He turned abruptly to the Courier, who had obviously experienced the abrupt shifts and dutifully put down his fork and concentrated on the new task at hand. Max let her fork fall in a rush and tuned into the conversation and belatedly thanked the tribal who took her unfinished plate away.

Joshuas deep, clipped voice reached Maxs ears with no problems, though he was not addressing her. He had turned his back on her and was giving the Courier his full attention and ignoring everyone else around him.

"Are you still setting yourself apart from the struggles of the Mojave?" Joshua asked the Courier intently.

"I'm not setting myself apart, I stepped back to let them govern themselves. I ain't no ruler Joshua, I'm a mailman." Courier rumbled in return, his expression becoming distasteful at the prospect of leading anyone other the small group of east coasters or his own friends.

"Ah… I don't mean to raise your ire, Six." Joshua said, not sounding in the least bit apologetic for any slight or accusation. "I was simply inquiring as to your level of care at my news, what you will find helpful and what you will not."

"Just tell me everything and I'll decided what to act on for myself." Courier sighed.

Joshua watched him carefully in silence for a long beat.

"Hmmm… well. The governance of New Vegas is nothing to concern yourself with. House and the NCR circle around each other in a constant dance, neither willing to overcome the other but both wanting to. NCR taxes cripple the settlements, but that is nothing new. Your main concern should be with the Brotherhood of Steel."

Joshuas icy gaze fell on Maxson as he sat unobtrusively across the fire. They drilled into the Elder as he continued. "My information is sketchy, I only here some things second hand through the Boomers or Miss Cassidy, but it seems that they are having some internal struggles, splinter groups and such. Not just the Mojave chapter either, the whole West Coast is divided. The only thing I do know for sure upon meeting your companion yonder, is that it seems to be all about him. Unless, there is another Maxson with which to build a cult around?"

Joshua turned his gaze back to the Courier. "and that's not all. I had word that the Big MT has fallen to unfriendly hands. I'm sorry I don't know to whom. But Dr Gannon was injured in the conflict leading to the facilities capture. Julie Farkas advised me he is well and has returned to New Vegas in the interim." Joshua added seeing the concern in the Couriers face.

"OK now, that is worrying." Courier growled. "MT is a dangerous place and I am technically responsible for it." He looked pensive, like he would have liked nothing more than to leave right away.

"Like I said, Six," Joshua said in a way that he must have assumed sounded reassuring, but wasn't. "My information about the Mojave is incomplete. Miss Cassidy is more interested in socialising when she comes through here and Follows-Chalk has been around less and less also. I will have to send out more scouts and diplomats before we are cut off all together." Joshua scowled.

"You mentioned Follows-Chalk is married." Courier said absently, his brain filing away the information Joshua had provided and wanting much more to process. He needed to get home and get some proper news. What exactly was going on in his Wasteland?

"Hmmm. The Boomers Master of Arms… A woman named Raquel. She is adequate." Joshua said dismissively.

"And what about the Legion." Max asked Joshuas back, causing his head to whip around at speed and his glacial eyes to clash with hers. Max did not like to be startled and her emerald globes burned in response to his rapid and jarring movements. She was immediately on edge, though she restrained her hand from darting to her pistol.

She saw Courier shake his head in warning and from the corner of her eye, saw Boone sit up straighter, tensing to move her way.

Joshuas shoulders unbunched slowly and the scowl he wore, slowly left his mouth, where his lips used to be and was replaced by a smile or at least as near as a smile as he was able to portray.

"The Legion are of no concern for now." He said softly, almost reverently. "The Bull bides his time to the north, east and south. He rebuilds what Sallow lost in his arrogance. The Bull is a different beast. He will strike only when he is certain of victory… and he is not there yet. He also knows that his enemies are many and that they are more advanced than the Legion. He will need to dismantle the Caesars old ideals and build new ones, ones that can combat the technology of the tenuous allies in the west. The NCR, Houses Securitrons, the Brotherhood, the Remnants, the Boomers and Zion… though we are a discordant group, the allies _will_ band together to defend what is theirs, given the appropriate leader and Gods good will."

Joshuas eyes swivelled back to the Courier, who snorted derisively at the words "appropriate leader."

Courier sighed and closed his eyes in contemplation for a moment.

"Dare I ask if there is anything else I should know?" He exhaled in exasperation.

Joshua grinned, it looked like he was baring his teeth like a dog about to attack. "The Cazador population is up." He said in his dry clipped tone.

"Fan-fucking-tastic." Courier groaned. "How often does Cass come through?"

"We see her only once a month or so, but the caravans come through every week sometimes more, since she acquired Happy Trails. She is almost equal to the Crimson Caravans Company now." Joshua supplied. "She is due back here any day."

"Yeah, we saw her in Cedar City… she said she had something to drop off, one of her Brahmin had pulled up lame."

"I see." Joshuas eyes lifted to the assembled diners, all talking amongst themselves. His keen eyes darted from Two-Bears who had emitted a loud barking laugh to the Lone Wanderer seated beside him. "How is it that you are travelling with him?"

"Zac? Yeah, I was actually meant to ask." Courier said looking slightly perplexed, "How have you guys even heard of him?"

Joshuas forehead moved as if he were raising an eyebrow. "From the comic books." He replied.

"From the what now?" Max asked from behind him.

Again, the woman interrupted the men. Joshua frowned. He had to remind himself that she was not just a woman but a General and his guest. He slowly turned back to her, careful this time to not move to quickly, her hand had twitched towards her sidearm the last time and NCR had poised to defend her. After a quick glance at her, he called across the fire to Two-Bears, who in turn abandoned his conversation mid sentence to scramble to his feet and jog over to Joshua, where he stood looking expectant.

"Bring me your literature about the Lone Wanderer." Joshua commanded shortly.

Two-Bears grinned widely and raced off up the cliff side walkway leading to Angel Cave.

Joshua turned back to Max. "Cassidy Caravans delivered some reading material a few months ago, among them were some comic books from the east. The comics have done the rounds of the encampments and settlements of Zion. I do not mind. They are wholesome enough and I encourage literacy among my people. You were going to tell me why he was in your party."

"Oh… Zac is the former Sentinel of the East Coast Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel and a good friend of the Elder." Courier supplied, eager to see the Zac Hobson comic books… he was intrigued. He got Zacs attention across the fire and beckoned him to join them.

Zac casually hauled himself off his log and sauntered over, sending world class smiles at all of his adoring fans around the fire. Maxson, Cade, MacCready and Boone chose to rise and follow him.

Two-Bears appeared not long after the team assembled around Joshua Graham. He was clutching a sheaf of off-white and curling papers to his chest. He held them out to Joshua proudly, who received them and handed them out to his guests without ceremony.

Max looked down at her comic. It was crudely drawn and faded. It was called 'The Lone Wanderer and the Water of Life'. She snorted and began to flick through it. Her eyes wandered over to the comic that the Courier was reading. 'The Lone Wanderer and the Children in the Dark.' She laughed out loud and snatched it rudely from his hand.

"Hey RJ, you're famous too." She chuckled and looked apologetically at the Courier for swiping his comic. MacCready squatted down next to her and began reading over her shoulder.

After a few minutes of reading about the adventure in Little Lamplight Caves and the tyrannical little Mayor, RJ MacCready. He was laughing sheepishly.

"Was I really that much of a little shit?" He asked, blushing hotly.

Zac looked up from his comic "The Lone Wanderer and the Slaves of The Pitt" and chuckled "Yes, you were and I was tempted to shoot you more than once."

Zac closed his comic and looked down at the cover, his smile suddenly disappearing. "Moira." He said softly, tracing her name with his finger.

Max closed hers as well and right on the cover it said quite clearly 'written and illustrated by Moira Brown'.

Courier cleared his throat, catching Zacs drop in mood. "You mind if we read these tonight and give them back in the morning?" He asked Two-Bears, who was delighted that he knew two of the characters from his favourite stories in person. He had sidled up to RJ and was rifling through the pages looking for his favourite part when the mayor unleashed an ear burning, curse riddled tirade at the Wanderer.

"Of course." He said gleefully. "but do not hurt them, they are my favourites and I don't think I can replace them."

Courier turned to Joshua, looking to excuse himself and his team for the night. Joshua had gone while they were reading and his seat was empty.

"Okay team," He addressed the group. "We're turning in for the night, I want to start out early. It seems my Mojave is falling to pieces without me and I want to get there as soon as possible."

It took a few more minutes to wrangle the group and drag them towards the tent. The comics were a welcome distraction for them. He had a feeling that the Mojave was not going to be the journeys end that they were hoping for.


	55. Chapter 55

**AN: It's been ages... I know, sorry.**

 **Chapter 55 –** **Making Secret Plans**

Joshua Graham told the Courier to stay an extra day in Zion. It was an order and the Courier followed it, much to the rest of the teams surprise, considering that he was practically chomping at the bit to get moving only the night before. It seemed that even the legendary Courier Six was not willing to argue with the Dead Horses War Chief. The extra time _did_ give the team a chance to revitalise themselves, have a genuine rest and it gave Zac time to get out of his sudden funk, bought on by an equally sudden bout of homesickness for the Capital and his lady love.

There were a few things that Max noticed while they were resting up. Cade was going around the men folk and talking to them individually, looking very serious. He did not come up and talk to her though, in fact, he seemed to be avoiding her. If there was one thing that Max didn't like, it was when people left her flapping in the wind. She hated not knowing what was going on. Maybe Cade was trying to convince the guys to have their prostates checked or something. She grinned to herself as she watched Cade sitting next to MacCready, talking quietly. The look on RJ's face indicated that if it wasn't about a 'turn your head and cough' exam, it was something equally unappetising.

Whatever it was about, she didn't really have much time to ponder it, as it seemed that everywhere she went, she seemed to be leapt upon by Boone. He was definitely not backwards about being forward. She found herself frequently pressed up against a canyon wall or dragged into a dark cave or conveniently empty tent. By the time the group were ready to set out the following morning, Max was feeling like she hadn't had any rest at all, though Boone seemed much happier than he had for the entire time that she had known him. She wished though, that he would wipe that smug expression off of his face.

The group milled about in front of their tent in the dim hours before dawn on the new morning of their departure. Max was sitting in the red dirt next to MacCready refilling her magazines when she noticed Cade sidling up to Boone with the Courier in tow. The Proctor seemed to be talking in an almost placating fashion to the sniper and she watched as Boones face became darker and darker as the conversation progressed. The Courier started talking next, he held his friend still with a firm hand on his shoulder and Boone was shaking his head and spitting out what looked to be biting retorts. Max wished she could hear them and suddenly, she felt there was no reason why she shouldn't. She stashed her magazines hurriedly and stood up.

As she expected, they stopped talking as soon as she was within hearing range.

"You guys okay?" She asked casually as she approached them. Courier and Cade looked her in the eye, their faces the picture of nonchalance. Boone stared angrily at his feet.

"Yep, good." Courier replied with a way-too-casual smile. It was a good attempt, but Max saw the subtle difference between it and one of his proper smiles, his eyes weren't crinkling at the corners. "You're on point this morning with Two-Bears, then rest and then on rear guard 'til knock off."

Max nodded slowly, looking at each of the men one at a time. "You guys remember my feelings about talking behind my back, right?" she murmured pointedly, the warning not subtle.

Boone drew breath and looked about to speak but he stopped abruptly and snapped his teeth closed again. Cade and Courier merely nodded and turned away. Boone looked ready to leave her as well, but she grabbed his arm and turned him back to her.

"Craig?" She implored.

"It's nothing." He said softly, his face as impassive as ever.

She reached up and eased his glasses off his eyes and stared hard into them. He held her gaze until she nodded and slipped his glasses back up his nose and into place. She turned away without another word and came face to face with Joshua Graham with a gasp. He was quiet, she'd give him that.

"There's something about you that bothers me?" He said in that emotionless voice, not bothering with any pleasantries.

Max arched an eyebrow at him and waited for clarification. It was not uncommon for certain people to get a bad vibe off of her. She wasn't used to it so much as she was now resigned to it.

Joshua continued to stare into her eyes, unblinking and searchingly, only inches from her face. She boldly held his gaze and let her own eyes bore back into his. Glacial blue clashing with emerald green, neither willing to relent. He was much taller than her, so she had to crane her neck to look up at him, but she was determined to stare this guy down. Eventually, his mouth stretched out into his warped approximation of a smile, the burn scars distorting into an almost cruel mask.

"I can not wait to encounter you again, general." He breathed harshly, every word out of his mouth seemed a warning. "I'm not sure we will be on the same side and that is quite thrilling." He bared his teeth in that chilling grin of his, the one that made him seem as if he were about to take a bite out of you.

"I see no reason for us to be at odds." Max replied coldly, not entirely sure where this was coming from.

He barked a sharp laugh "Maybe not, but I do."

With that, he inclined his head abruptly and turned away, walking purposefully towards the trail to the Angel Cave. He gave no farewell to the rest of the group who had gathered not far away and were watching the confusing exchange warily, all but Boone who was still standing behind her not far away and had heard the whole discussion. He gripped his rifle tightly in his hands and eyeballed Joshua Grahams retreating back, mentally setting his target.

* * *

The morning passed quickly and without event. Two-Bears guided the group towards the gateway out of Zion, walking shyly next to Max as she took point. He was jovial enough with the guys, but very quiet around the groups sole female. He spent a lot of time opening his mouth to speak and then shutting it and blushing. Max thought it was adorable and lightly teased him about it, though he only blushed harder and tried to concentrate on the trail rather than engage with her. So, the first part of the day for Max was spend in near silence.

Two-Bears was only with them until they reached the shallowly, climbing path that indicated the start of the Southern Passage that would lead them all through tight canyons and then out into the wider wasteland.

When he left them, he gave his hero Zac Hobson, the Lone Wanderer, a warm hug and an almost tearful goodbye. He clasped the forearms of each of the companions accept Max, who he bowed awkwardly to before backing away from her hurriedly. They left him standing somewhat forlornly at the entrance to the pass, he waved to them and shouted a farewell they didn't understand in the unusual language of the Dead Horses and the East Coasters ventured into the narrow corridor of the Southern Passage.

Max was in the pack for the first portion of the trek. Though the nature of the path meant they had to walk single file for most part. The group seemed strangely quiet as they trudged through the dark alleyways of the Southern Passage, the walls looming high over their heads creating a claustrophobic, almost tomb like pall over them. It was hard to gauge the progress of time with those tight walls around them. If they didn't look at their pipboys, they could have sworn they were in a perpetual, red tinged twilight.

Later in the afternoon, at the Couriers urging, the snipers swapped out positions again and Max found herself at the back of the pack on rear guard, perhaps not being as observant of her surroundings as she normally would be. How observant did a person have to be in a narrow corridor. She wasn't interested in staring at the back of Zacs head, though it was now encased in a tribal head band decorated with bones and pebbles, and the way behind them was almost as electrifying.

Max found her mind wandering. First, she aimed to ponder the odd behaviour of her team. She had no idea what they could be keeping from her, but from the looks on the faces of her best friend, RJ and her… umm… what was Boone to her?

Craig Boone was a perplexing son-of-a-bitch. He was sullen, closed off and grumpy. He barely ever smiled… she tried hard to think of an instance when he had ever laughed… maybe a chuckle… once? He was deeply scarred and damaged, psychologically. The strong silent type thing was intriguing but quite vexing when one needed to actually talk to him about something.

He had such a nice voice…low pitched and deep, like a gruff whisper that caressed your ears and sent a tingle up your spine. He was kind and gentle and loyal to a fault. And he was hot. He was good looking in that really dirty kind of way, rugged yet faultless. And his body… what the fuck right did he have, having a body like that? It made her mouth water to think about it. You could crack walnuts on his arse… if there were still walnuts around. And those eyes. It wasn't often that they were seen, always hidden away by his aviators, but they were so pretty... pale mossy green...

Max found her lips had quirked into a gentle, crooked smile and she had uttered a soft wistful sigh. Urgh!… did that pathetic sound just come from her?

Her brow furrowed in thought and she glanced ahead. They would be out of the canyons soon and heading back towards the I15, they would pop out where the town of St George once stood. They would soon be in the Mojave Wasteland, they might even be there now, she still wasn't sure how the borders were defined.

Regardless, the journey would be over. And then what? She'd have a quick chat with Elder McNamara and then turn around and go home? Max was famous for being ever so slightly rash. She didn't really think things through, being more of a 'take action' kind of girl. When she went back home, she would most likely never see the Courier again. Maxson would likely stay to cement his position as High Elder. Cade and Zac would stay with him, of course, and it would be just her and MacCready. Adrift in the world.

It would take months to get back to the Commonwealth, and what would be waiting for them when they got there? Crikey, considering the trip so far, _if_ they got there at all.

She wouldn't see Boone again. The Mojave was his home and the Courier was his best friend. He wouldn't traipse across the country to be with her. Why would he? Why would she make him?

What the FUCK was she doing out here?

She pinched the bridge of her nose in an effort to stave off the pressure that was building behind her eyes. She thought briefly about calling ahead to Courier and rotating out. She would kill for a paracetamol right now.

She shook her head and adjusted her grip on Nevasee and looked ahead, tilting her head in perplexity. The group had pulled ahead of her and they weren't in sight. She hadn't slowed, had she? The narrow canyon of the Southern Passage was twisting but she shouldn't be out of sight of them. She quickened her pace and it seemed unnaturally fast for her.

She was then aware of angry, raised voices ahead, something was going on with her team.

She chambered a round and broke out into a run, thinking that they had been ambushed and cursing herself for falling behind… How had she fallen behind?


	56. Chapter 56

**AN: ... and I had written two chapters anyway. Please review or whatever. I am going somewhere with all this I promise.**

 **Also, I have updated the cover picture - Thanks again, Graysongirl13. I loves it.**

 **Chapter 56 -** **The First Rule of Fight Club**

Max rounded the slight bend in the high walled canyon and stopped dead, taking in the scene before her. She stared in open mouthed shock for a moment not quite sure what was going on nor how to react to it. Zac, Cade, MacCready and the Courier were standing well back looking slightly stunned, while Boone and Maxson were pummelling the tar out of each other.

Courier and Zac stepped forward and attempted to pry the pair apart, both calling for calm and rationality. Both were thrown back by the combatants as Boone took the interference as an opportunity to take Maxson to the ground with a waist high tackle. They fell heavily, the air rushing from their lungs as they impacted in the dust and loose rock of the canyon floor with Boone taking control in the fall. Boone drove his fist into Maxsons face and drew back for another blow but Maxson recovered quickly, blocked and rolled the two of them over in the dirt.

Boone, by his own admission, was not the best at close combat. Maxson, on the other hand, had been training nearly since birth in the art of combat in all forms. He could hold his own with both Zac and Courier, two of the most accomplished fighters anyone had ever seen. Boone was a little out of his league as Maxsons youth and skill came into full play, landing blow after accurate blow on his downed foe.

Max figured that the two of them were not playing around as she saw the snarl on Maxsons mouth and heard the growls issuing from both men. Their punches were definitely not being pulled and Boone was not a hand to hand fighter. He was fading under the barrage of hits from the young Elder.

Max started forward knowing that she needed to get in there fast and then she froze. The next few seconds moved in slow motion, as she couldn't believe what was happening.

Elder Arthur Maxson clamped his gloved hand around the snipers throat as he lay dazed and beaten on the ground beneath him. He reached to his hip and drew his laser pistol from its holster. Through gritted teeth and with a chilling growl, he bought it in line with Boones head …. and fired.

With the flash of laser fire, Maxs reaction was instantaneous and completely without thought. She flew at the Elder as if she had spat defiance back in the face of gravity herself. Maxson fell heavily to the rocky ground as her body collided with his and the breath was knocked from him in a painful rush, his sight cleared in time for him to see her over him, her eyes empty, her lips pulled back in an inhuman snarl and her hand drawn back claw like to strike him.

Then the Courier was there and Zac as well but much to their dismay she threw them both off her with astounding force and speed, not once taking her terrifying attention from Maxson. He struggled weakly underneath her as she lashed out, bearing the brunt of strike after brutal strike. She finally drew back her elbow to deliver a crushing, and no doubt fatal blow to Maxsons throat.

And then Boone was at her side, taking her face in both of his hands and turning it towards him and away from her prey, locking his mossy eyes with her strangely empty gaze. The side of his face was singed by a laser burn and he was bruised and bloodied from the fight with Maxson, but he was otherwise unhurt.

"Maxine." He whispered to her, staring into her emerald orbs, hoping to get through to wherever she was buried in her head. "I'm okay, come back."

She looked back at him, though she seemed not to comprehend what he was saying. She let go of Maxson and sat back to gaze dumbly at Boone. He ran his thumbs softly over her cheeks and kept his eyes on hers, keeping her focus as Cade inched forward and took his place at Maxsons head, administering a stimpak and checking the extent of the Elders injuries. Everyone else remained quiet, more than a little shaken by her violent intervention.

Courier picked himself off the ground where he had fallen and MacCready handed Zac to his feet. Zac shook his head to clear his vision, his head having met a very unforgiving rock wall. Boone slowly coaxed Max to rise and led her away from the rest of the group, she followed him meekly, her eyes never straying from his. It was eerie to say the least.

Cade was trying to both keep watch on Max and assist his Elder who had taken quite a beating from both Boone and then Max. The Courier sensed his split focus and took charge of treating Maxson, whose normally handsome face was not looking quite so pretty. Max had taken to him with not only her fists but her elbows, hell even her fingernails and it looked like Boone had interceded just in time.

Cade watched Max closely. Boone had sat down against the rocky canyon wall and had settled her in his lap. He was whispering to her softly, stroking her hair and her back with one hand and cradling her cheek with the other, their eyes never leaving each other. Cade checked his pipboy. In Cedar City it was about half an hour before she snapped out her condition, what Zac called 'wigging out'.

Boone needed to be treated for the laser burn on his face or he would scar not to mention his lacerated face and bloodied knuckles. Cade felt bad about persuading his Elder and the sniper to fight… as realistically as possible. He knew that it was tense between the two men anyway because of both of their feelings for the General. He needed it to be convincing… it looked pretty damn convincing, even he was shocked when Maxson drew arms on Boone.

He heard Maxson mutter from the ground as Courier helped him sit up. "Is Boone alright? Is Max?"

"Yeah, they're good." Courier replied softly, glancing at the pair as they sat apart in their little bubble against the rock wall.

Maxson sighed in relief and shuddered lightly. "She was going to kill me..." He said, a small note of disbelief in his voice.

Cade listened to them vaguely, also noting that Zac and MacCready were talking unobtrusively from their positions as well, though he didn't hear what they were saying.

Almost like clockwork, half an hour after his timely intervention, Boone called over to Cade.

Boone smiled gently down at Max as she blinked and he saw her come back, right before his eyes. She was confused and looked from Boone to her surroundings and then back at Boone, a deep furrow between her brows as she tried to piece together what had happened. She reached her hand up and her fingertips hovered over the blackened skin on Boones cheek.

Cade hunkered down next to them.

"Max.' He whispered drawing her attention. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Arthur shot…?" She mumbled vaguely, her fingers twitching back from Boones face and her eyes whipped around to the singed ground, where Maxsons shot had actually hit. Her gaze shifted to Maxson, who was sitting not far away, cleaning dried blood from his tattered and heavily swollen face. He didn't meet her eyes. She looked back at Boone and then at Cade, confusion plainly written on her face. "What happened?"

Cade cleared his throat and looked Max in the eye, trying to be as persuasive and gentle as was possible. "After Cedar City, I had a theory that you might be subject to a Dissociative Disorder." Max wrinkled her brow and narrowed her eyes at him. "You black out and have no idea what happened afterwards." He said trying to sound assuring. "I … uhh.." this was harder than he thought it would be. "I had the Elder and Boone engage to try and confirm what your trigger was, how you transitioned into the dissociative state and how it manifested itself. I have only ever observed the aftermath of…"

Cades voice left him as Max stared at him silently for a long while, her striking eyes frosty.

"You wanted me to believe that Arthur had killed Craig… just to see what I'd do?" She said slowly, her voice dipping dangerously. She looked back over at Maxson taking in his battered appearance… Boone hadn't done nearly that amount of damage to him in their little, _staged_ brawl. She then noticed that Zac and Courier were also not moving as freely as they should be either. "I did that." She said, her voice going even colder as she pieced together what had happened "You _made me_ do that?"

"I've seen it with my own eyes now." Cade said defensively, tensing at her growing displeasure. "We know when someone you care about is mortally threatened, the conscious part of your brain shuts down and a much more aggressive…"

Cade didn't get any further in his explanation. Maxs fist impacted hard into his face and he fell back onto the rocky canyon floor in a near stupor. She pushed herself off Boones lap are glared at her team one after the other. "You were all in on this, right?" She grated.

"Max..." Boone entreated her, standing up as well.

She rounded on him and he braced for the expected hit.

"…Even you?" She growled, her eyes narrowed to slits and her viridian irises blazed.

She didn't hit him. She tilted her head to the side and regarded him distantly for a moment, before nodding her head absently, turning and walking away, pausing briefly to pick up her helmet, pack and rifle. She didn't look back as she walked around a turn and out of sight.

Boone closed his eyes for a spell and then turned to the Courier. "I told you…" he spat, his own mossy eyes sparking in anger and more than a little hurt. He grabbed his pack and rifle and hurried after Max.

Courier sighed and walked over to help Cade off the ground and examined his face for the predictable aftermath of Maxs punch. Cade looked devastated as well as bruised.

"Don't worry, Dylan." Courier rumbled reassuringly. "Give her time to think on it. She'll see."

Cade nodded sadly, he didn't want Max to think less of him, but they did need to know. He would talk through his observations with her later when she calmed down. He had questions too. What he needed to do now was treat Boones laser burn otherwise it would scar and be a constant reminder of what Max would see as some kind of betrayal.

Courier turned to the rest of the group who were still somewhat shell shocked by the whole episode.

"We'd better move it." He said, "Boone'll calm her down. You good, Maxson? Hobson?" Both men nodded and Maxson got gingerly to his feet. They gathered their things quickly and started after Max and Boone in sombre spirits. Courier heard Zac talking behind him as he led the way.

"Sorry mate, she was on you faster than I thought she could move and I didn't expect to be chucked around like a rag doll."

"I deserved the beating, don't worry about it." Maxson replied.

"She's more dangerous than she looks…"

"But I think even like that, she held back. Like she didn't really want to hurt you…" MacCready added softly.

"Another second and she would have dropped the elbow… if she was holding back before that, she obviously had made up her mind at that point." Maxson corrected him definitively.

Cade and Courier stayed silent, both feeling an uncomfortable wave of guilt.


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57 – Butterflies**

The atmosphere in the group had turned frosty and uncomfortable. Max had not uttered a word to anyone except Boone… whom she told to get the fuck away from her in no uncertain terms. She took point, all day, every day, stalking out in front of the group, glaring at the landscape around her and all but ignoring the six men trailing behind her. She cooked when it was her turn and she took watch with a partner, though again those shifts were very, very quiet. She was not going to let go of the betrayal that she felt had been perpetrated against her by her 'team'. Zac had tried to talk to her once, after he was told to 'back the fuck off before she tore off his face and buried it in the sand', he decided that they should leave her be for a little while longer. Maxine Everton was a girl who held a grudge.

None of the guys could fathom what was running through her head. None of them knew how they would feel if it were them on the receiving end of the experiment and revelation. Cade was quietly morose, ticking off bullet points in his head on how he would mend his relationship with the General and how to talk to her about her condition with his limited knowledge of the subject. He found it strange that in her entire military career, no one had addressed it nor had seen any sign of it considering the stories he'd heard of the tight knit units that served in Anchorage all those years ago.

Boone had taken up rear guard, mirroring Max. He didn't speak, though that was not so unusual for him, but Courier knew his friend better than anyone and Maxs withdrawal from him was killing him. He was dark and bitter towards everyone for letting himself be drawn into the charade. Courier was worried for his friend and needed to fix this, he needed her to start talking to them.

They reached the I15 and headed south east… so very close to the end of their journey, every feature in the landscape was familiar to Courier… and Boone, though he really didn't care.

The I15 was sparsely peppered with merchants, moving north to Cedar City or to try their hand at trading with Zion, though this far south of Zion, the Legion had vanished from sight, the Bull not willing to risk his still too low numbers against the Mojave.

Max set a quick pace, driven by her festering anger and Courier decided just as they passed the quiet trading post at Crystal that he decided that he'd had quite enough of her sullen bullshit. She _had_ to see by now that they were only looking out for her. Cade had only the best intentions for her well being. He was concerned about her undiagnosed condition that was not only potentially dangerous to the group, but also to Max herself. There had to be an instance where even in her hyped up, out of body state she would eventually be bested by some foe…as he once heard someone say 'there was always a bigger fish'.

Courier resolutely set his hat down low on his head and quickened his pace, shortening the distance between him and the lady way out in front. As he came to her side he started talking without preamble.

"You had a problem you didn't even know about." He said, as if picking up a just interrupted conversation "Dylan identified it. If we'd told you what we were doing, you wouldn't have reacted the same way. As for Boone, well, he didn't want anything to do with it. I persuaded him to help… Listen Max." She hadn't turned her head to acknowledge him or anything, so he grabbed hold of her arm to stop her from walking. She stopped and glared at him. "You threw Zac and me clear across the passage… while holding Maxson down. You have to know that's something that you shouldn't be able to do."

"I get it." She said shortly. "I'm a freak and a danger to the group. I can't be trusted… message received."

"No. That's not what I said." He grated. "And you know it, stop being a brat."

Max suddenly smiled widely and started to chuckle. "Brat." She shook her head and slipped her arm around his waist. "I'm not going to be able to get away with anything with you around, huh?"

Courier chucked his arm around her neck like one would a little sister and they started walking again.

"You need to talk to Dylan, you need to talk to Boone…" Courier listed off softly as Max nodded her head in submission.

"I'm not even angry anymore. I knew there was something..." She grimaced.

Her brow suddenly furrowed and she stared off into the distance. She put her fist up in the air, halting the group behind them and let go of Courier, tugging Nevasee off her shoulder.

"Movement." she muttered, raising the scope to her eye and scanning the horizon intently. "What the fuck is that?"

"What?" Courier asked, accepting the rifle as she handed it to him and lifting the scope to peer through it. "Ah Fuck!" He exclaimed urgently, handing the rifle back to her.

"Boone, RJ, We need you." Courier called back to the group. "Max, take out as many as you can… now."

The Courier was worried and that worried Max no end. She instantly took a knee and raised her rifle to her shoulder and began to fire off .308 rounds at what looked to be small cloud to the naked eye, an undulating cloud of perpetual movement. Boone and MacCready were at his side a moment later, Boone looking down at Max as she swapped magazines on the blind and continued firing, she took his breath away when she worked.

"Cazador swarm." Courier stated, snapping Boones attention to him in an instant. The sniper took a knee next to Max and lined up his first shot without question and MacCready, though he didn't know what they were on about, followed suit.

Courier was flicking off the safety on his lever action and loosening his sequoia in its holster as Maxson, Cade and Zac joined them. They began to ammo up as well.

Max changed over her magazine again and then tilted her eyebrow up at the Courier.

"Wait a minute, are they butterflies?" She asked incredulously.

"Keep shooting. They're quick and they're venomous" Courier rasped in warning, raising his rifle, pausing as he identified eight likely targets and firing his rounds in quick succession.

"Cazadors are butterflies?" Max snorted almost dismissively, emptying her magazine at the fast approaching cloud which now took on the form of dozens of fluttering insects with bright orange wings. It didn't sit right with her that the pretty little bugs that used to dance above the flowers in the gardens of the old world, were now a monster to drive the fear of god into a hero like the Courier.

She shrugged and loaded up her last magazine, and emptied it into the squirmy mass of twitching bodies.

She discarded her rifle into the dirt and drew her sidearm, taking a moment to loosen her machete in its loop at her hip as well, just in case she needed to mow down some of the dainty wee beasties up close and personal like.

The cloud was almost upon the group and they all fired indiscriminately at the slowly diminishing swarm. Courier took a moment to pull one of his pilfered frag grenades from his belt and tossed it with a mighty heave into the midst of the swarm. The following explosion took the numbers down again, but the swarm would reach the group.

"Watch the stingers." Courier shouted, Sequoia in one hand and his Machete in the other as he ploughed into the swarm.

The bugs _were_ fast, wicked fast as they zigged and zagged in the air around the team. Fast and extremely aggressive, darting and retreating from the human targets trying to land poisoned blows of their own. The men fought them off viciously but Max still couldn't wrap her head around the large bugs, her pre war perceptions of them burned into her. She swapped out her 10mm clip and fired, her back was up against someone, it felt like Maxsons coat, they had all moved into the back to back formation so as to not accidentally shoot each other.

Max pulled her last magazine from her belt and slapped it into place, when she stumbled forwards, the person behind her thumping into her during their own concentrated fight, and she found herself with three of the fluttery little buggers surrounding her. She pulled her machete from her belt and sliced one of them out of the sky with a precise back hand swing and double tapped two rounds into another. And then she turned and faced the last one in her periphery.

The lone Cazador was quicker, contorting its abdomen and striking her forcefully in her side, penetrating her flesh just below her rib cage. She cried out as the thick, needle like stinger sunk in deep and withdrew with surgeon like accuracy and lightening quick speed. The wound burned like nothing she'd ever felt before and she instantly felt woozy. She fired her pistol wildly at the creature, most of the bullets missing their mark and the magazine emptied into the void as her motor skills dissipated. Her finger keeping clicking on the trigger well after it was empty with a hollow sounding clink-clink-clink as her extremities started to spasm. She no longer had control of her hand, the digit was simply convulsing around the empty gun. One of her rounds _must_ have hit its mark though, the Cazador had fallen.

She gasped and crumbled into the sandy ground, the Cazadors body twitching jerkily not far from her... like it was having the last laugh.

"A butterfly…" She blinked disbelievingly as she lay dazed on the strangely soft and warm ground, bloody foam painting her lips and spilling down the side of her face to pool in the sand. Her eyes sought out her team, dispatching the last of the pretty bugs and all turning in dismay towards her.

Cade was beside her in a second, on his knees applying stimpaks. The Courier fell to his knees on her other side, injecting her with antivenom… he and Boone were the only ones who had any. The others hung back now that the mutated bugs were all dead, knowing they could do nothing themselves but look on in a state of dumb shock. Boone had pulled his beret from his head and clutched it in his fist, his knuckles white, as he watched the Proctor and the Courier work over her in a frenzy.

"It's not working." The Courier grated in frustrated concern, staring hard at the empty antivenom syringe and then back at Max, the effect of the antivenom should have been instantaneous, especially on her. "Why isn't it working?"

Her face took on a deathly pallor and began to take on a blueish tinge, her eyes wide and glassy, seeing nothing.

"No, no, no, no…" Cade breathed in anguish, he wiped off her mouth and sealed it with his... blowing air directly into her lungs. He huffed in a couple of breaths before stopping and laying his ear to her lips trying to detect any trace of breath. "Nononono..." He said again, his voice now desperate and pleading.

"Boone... Antivenom?" The Courier looked over at his friend who was like a marble statue. "BOONE!"

Boone looked sharply at the Courier, nodding and began rifling through his pack. He rushed to the Courier and handed him two more syringes. Courier injected both in quick succession as the Proctor straddled Maxs inert body and began to pump at her chest with both of his hands forcing her heart to beat as it faltered inside of her.

"Breathe for her." Cade barked at Boone sharply.

Boone took up position at her head and sealed his mouth over hers, sending forceful gusts of air into her lungs like the medic had done, whenever Cade stopped pumping on her chest.

"Cummon, you stubborn bitch." Cade grated through gritted teeth, tears forming in his eyes. He couldn't lose her, especially not when she was still angry at him. "Fight."

Maxson sat down heavily in the sand, pale and horrified… he looked completely lost. The woman he loved was dying in the dirt nearly three thousand miles from her home, because of him, he'd bumped her out of formation as a bug had darted at his head, he'd pushed her into the creatures midst. Zac and MacCready just stood there, watching with their hands on their heads in matching poses. They all felt completely useless.

"Courier, there's some Psycho in my bag... get it." Cade ordered still pumping on her chest, the action punctuated by a cracking sound as some of her ribs gave way under the pressure of the chest compressions.

Courier rummaged in the bag and pulled out the dangerous looking injection pump from the very bottom, where it had lain since Cade picked it up absently at the Hangdog settlement over a month ago.

He looked uncertainly at the Brotherhood Proctor and then down at the unpredictable and highly risky chem in his hand but figured, what harm could it do now?

… She was gone.

 **AN: Yes, I know that you don't sit astride people while doing CPR but I am operating on the assumption that it is an experimental and strange kind of thing to do. Considering the Fallout world is a pseudo 1950's era and CPR was developed in the 60's… and there were three people working on her. Considering I'm not getting reviews recently, I have to assume no one's reading anyway… hint, hint…**


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58 – Poison and Chems**

There was no denying the moment that the light left her eyes. They were wide and staring up to the sky one moment, the next into the void. The moment when her body became a corpse.

Courier Six knelt heavily on the ground at her side, watching Cade and Boone continue fruitlessly to try and revive the General. He sighed and handed the Psycho injector pump to Cade and sat back on his heels. Boone would be broken again he thought. It had taken years to bring his friend back from the brink and after this… after he dared to give his heart away again… it was too much to think about. He sighed, ready to mourn the woman who had secretly taken a little bit of his heart too. A woman he was proud to have met and called his friend.

Dylan Cade positioned the syringe over Maxs chest, drew back his arm and stabbed it into her with force. Plunging the Chems in through her chest cavity and directly into her heart. He looked at her face closely, but there was nothing. He groped at her throat searching for a pulse, a sign of life, but there was nothing. Cade had done all that he could.

He sat back and sobbed looking down at the woman that he respected and had put as high up on a pedestal as one could go and whom he loved like a little sister. The woman who had faith in his abilities and had wanted him above the other medics, even her friends, to be here, because she thought he was the best. She was wrong, her faith in him misplaced because he had failed her.

Craig Boone looked down at her pale face and made no other move. He just stared at her in stunned disbelief, comparing the contorted look that her face had now to the one she had worn days before, when she hadn't been angry at him, when she had snuck a look at him out of the corner of her eye. The corner of her lips hitched up in that crooked little smile and a jewel like twinkle in her amazing eyes. She had whispered that they needed to find a quiet spot to be alone… actually she had said that she 'really wanted to fuck him so hard right now.' But he preferred to romanticise it a bit, though what they had done in that darkened cave was exactly what she had promised.

He reached out and ran the back of his hand down the side of her face. She didn't feel real now, her skin felt waxy and fake. He stood up abruptly and turned away, walking a few feet to stare out at the wasteland. He couldn't look at her anymore, not like this. He wanted to remember that crooked smile and her bright green eyes that made his mouth go dry when they looked at him. Of course, he thought to himself bitterly as his heart shrivelled inside his chest. Of course, he couldn't have her… of course he couldn't. Why did he ever think that he could?

Robert MacCready lost all feeling in his legs and he plummeted into the sand, a broken hearted moan on his lips. Max was immortal, Max didn't die, Max was a goddess. He put his hands over his eyes and cried like a little boy who had lost his best friend. She was the woman who had seen the potential in an unsavoury merc and bought out the very best in him with her trust. She had allowed him to flourish, had helped him save his son, had given him a home and a chance at love. He sobbed again… He _had_ lost his best friend.

Arthur Maxson knew he was crying. He hadn't shed a tear since he was a child, but now he was wracked with such deep pain and tortured sobs. Nothing was worth this, no position, no scrap of land, no army. He wanted to go back home. He wanted to open the door to his quarters and have her sitting there, looking smug and filling the air with the scent of carrot flowers and danger. He would give anything to be bickering with her, to have her call him an arsehat. To have those eyes flash at him in anger. To see that smile that stopped his heart every time. Nothing was worth losing her. Nothing.

Zac Hobson, the lone wanderer, watched his friends crumble around him. Maxine was exceptional and the exceptional ones didn't die. Courier had survived two to the head, Maxson had been mauled by a deathclaw at thirteen and had survived. He himself was a wonder, the fact that he was alive after all of these years was a mystery for the ages. The exceptional ones didn't die. He refused to believe that she was gone. Any minute now she was going to get up, tell them all to stop being dickheads and walk away…. Any minute now.

The Courier slowly reached out his hand and gently closed her eyes. He swallowed painfully and tried to stop his eyes from misting over. He looked at each of his companions one at a time and shook his head, they were _all_ broken. He looked back down at Max and smiled sadly. He'd told her she was what kept the group together, it was true and as of right now, they were done. He pushed a stray lock of rich dark hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear… She sure was pretty, he mused in his head.

Her cheek twitched.

He blinked, thinking that he had imagined it.

"Max?" He said almost inaudibly.

Her arm spasmed. And he clutched at it.

"Max?" he said again, his voice finding strength and tinged with hope.

Cade looked up, his eyes swollen and ravaged with tears, Boone turned back towards them. Maxson, Zac and MacCready all looked up at the sound.

Her body suddenly heaved itself off the ground, her heals digging deeply into the sand, her back arching unnaturally and her limbs flaying without direction. She started to convulse. Every muscle and corded tendon straining against the bonds of her skin. Her eyes flashed open again, blazing with an unnatural light and her mouth stretched open as if in a soundless and tortured scream.

Cade and Courier each grabbed hold of her as Boone raced back to her side, sliding on his knees and sending a cloud of dust into the air.

They held her down as the chems that would normally have killed her, burned through her system to kick start her poisoned molecules one atom at a time. It seemed to go on forever, her ravaged body tossed and contorted, it was almost as bad as seeing her dead… the wretched jolts and spasms seemed endless, but she finally quieted, slumping back into the sand as if once again lifeless. And Cade was checking her vitals. Her heartbeat was fast… way too fast as the Psycho attacked her almost as viciously as the Cazadors poison had. Her breathing was uneven, ragged and laboured, but the colour had returned to her cheeks... too much colour, her skin began to burn.

'Water." Cade ordered.

Maxson was there with tins of water from his pack and then MacCready and Zac

"We need to get her somewhere." Cade said, his voice was raw and strained as he tried to cool her skin with the almost hot water from their packs. "I can't do this in the middle of the fucking desert."

"Nellis." Courier supplied, leaping to his feet. "about eighteen miles away."

"I'll go." Zac went for his pack.

"Nope, has to be me, they'll fire on you." Courier said, quickly lightening his load. He unslung his lever action and dragged off his duster and pack. He left without another word, heading off south along the road at a mile eating pace, his feet pounding on the crumbling tarmac of the I15.

The rest of them gathered their gear as fast as was possible while Cade continued to watch Max and they made an improvised gurney to carry Maxs now worryingly still body. Her body had relaxed again into a near dead state, but she was still breathing shallowly. Maxson and Zac picked up Max and Cade ran along side of them, monitoring her as best as he could. The pace was much slower than that of the Courier who had vanished into the southern horizon. MacCready and Boone ranged out in front and behind, protecting the men and their precious cargo from any more of the Mojaves dangers.

They had run for only a few minutes when Cade called an urgent halt. Zac and Maxson lowered Max gently to the ground again as Cade fretted over her. He let out a despairing groan. She had stopped breathing again. Her body was so pumped full of chems and poison it had no idea what it was supposed to be doing. Cade had to remind it how to preform even the most basic of functions. He had Zac breathe for her and he began to pump on her chest again, secretly hoping that this was the right thing to do. He hoped that her broken ribs wouldn't puncture anything inside of her.

Her body finally began to understand what was required of it and she began to breathe again on her own and her heart began to beat but with an unsatisfactory soft tempo. Cade needed to be able to see and hear what was happening inside of her as they moved her… he couldn't trust that he could catch every falter in her system while jogging at her side. He looked around himself urgently for the answer and his eyes fell on Maxsons pipboy; Maxson and Boones were the only two that were still working to their full potential. He all but tore it off of the Elders arm, though Maxson made no move to stop him. Cade took Maxs off her and snapped Maxsons on and once it had booted up, he set it to monitoring her life signs. It began to beep out her pulse rate and strength and Cade sighed in relief. He scrolled through the life sign options and noted that the pipboy had located all of the different substances in her system and what effect they all had on her. He motioned for the others to start moving again.

The Elder and the Lone Wanderer hoisted her off the ground and they started out again. Eighteen miles suddenly seemed like an eternity.

* * *

When Zac and Maxson began to stumble in exhaustion, MacCready and Boone had taken over carrying their burden. They'd had to stop a couple more times to resuscitate Max and they seemed no closer to Nellis Airforce Base. Cade was focussed on his patient, listening to every beep from Maxsons pipboy and monitoring every statistic that it flashed up on its screen. He was tired but Hehe didn't care if it killed him, he would make her well.

They were running again, after another stop. Just when Cade thought she was stable, she would falter again be it from the poison or the Psycho. The wound from the Cazador sting was not healing and with almost every jolt, it opened and thick blood and pus oozed from it. Cade wasn't even sure if the Stimpaks he had used on her were having any effect. The Cazador poison seemed to render everything except the Psycho completely useless, including the antivenom that the Courier had judiciously administered in bulk. Cade suspected that the only thing actually keeping her alive was the dangerous chem coursing through her system. He was worried; he had no more, he'd picked it up on a whim… he didn't even know what a second dose would do to her.

His anxiety kept the fatigue at bay.

Eventually Zac called out from in front of them, he had taken point after he had been relieved from gurney duty. He'd seen something ahead.

The glint he had seen on the horizon was being trailed by a dust cloud, the glint turned out to be the windscreen of a working flatbed truck catching the evening sun from the west. It approached quickly and the men laid Max down on the ground once more. They were fairly certain that the Courier was a passenger on the truck but they locked and loaded just to be sure.

The truck slowed as it neared them and before it came to complete stop, the Courier was leaping from it and running towards them followed by two other men; one tall, blond and slim, the other of medium height with dark chocolate coloured skin. Everyone lowered their weapons and Cade groaned in relief… Courier'd bought local doctors who had experience with the mutated bugs and their toxin…Thank Steel!

Nobody stopped to chat though… introductions could wait. Maxs still but slowly beeping form was loaded onto the back of the truck and everyone crowded around. The truck turned back to the south and took them all to Nellis and the security of the Boomers.

 **AN: Max is only still alive due to the toss of a coin. Could have gone either way. Also thanks to Charles506 for your inspiring review :) and everyone else... I won't plead for** **reviews** **again. I will be stoked with an even hundy.**


	59. Chapter 59

**AN: almost immediately after posting a note saying I didn't know how this was going to end.. I had a flash of inspiration. This chapter is just to tide you over. Shit is going to happen next.**

 **Chapter 59 – Awakenings**

It had started out as a nagging itch that persisted just below her left breast. She could not scratch it. That was how she first became aware of what was going on around her.

Things progressed from there to a painful head ache and an annoying buzzing that filled her brain, like a nest of furious hornets had launched a full scale invasion therein. It was driving her insane.

It was dark, obviously because her eyes were closed and even the slightest attempt to open them and let in the light that she knew to be just beyond her grasp, seemed to be the most impossible task that she had ever been set.

So, she just lay there… in the dark. Itching and buzzing and throbbing with pain and becoming more and more angry.

She was aware. And that was something. She could taste… smell, though that didn't seem to be much of a boon right now. She was conscious of sounds and sensations, she could feel and hear. The only things she couldn't do were see or move. She could not make a sound, she could not communicate to them that she was even in there. She was essentially locked inside her own body.

Cade was there. Courier, Zac, MacCready and Maxson. There were others… voices that she did not recognise but she could tell from their conversations that they were medical professionals or at least the wasteland equivalents. Boone was there. His gruff voice alternating between anger and fear, grief… and at times it dropped to the dark sultry whisper that she loved and that made her spine tingle, she knew that they were alone at those times. She wished she could let him know that she was there.

She was unaware of the passage of time. She didn't know if it was night or day when she first came to consciousness and she could not guess when the people around her treated her, what hours they prodded at her, wrapped and unwrapped lengths of gauze and applied cotton pads. After what she guessed was days, the voices of her team began to peter off. She heard them less and less… the only constants were Cade and Boone.

It was during one of those lengthy sessions of prodding and poking, that Boones voice raised heatedly. They were doing something to her. It hurt, and Boone was very unhappy about it. There were sounds of a violent scuffle. The pain stopped but so did Boones voice. And there had been a muffled thud, the sound of a body hitting the floor. A sound Max had heard a hundred times before. She was angry before… now she was furious.

It was the fury that moved her.

She could feel the blood begin to pump in her veins. She could feel heat spread across her body spurring her limbs to move. Her body may have been weakened … but her mind was strong, and her heart was stronger, and some motherfucker had just messed with her man. It was the combined effort of her will and her rage that tore her eyelids open.

She did not blink against the harsh and painful glare of the overhead light that suddenly assailed her. She immediately locked blazing emerald eyes on the backs of the two men who were bent over the now still body of Boone on the linoleum tiled floor. She willed her atrophied muscles to work, launching herself off the bed and at the biggest of her unknown foes. She secretly hoped that she could go into her disconnected state… the one that seemed to have the power to subdue whole gangs of strong men, the state that Cade had wanted to examine, but it seemed that function was not available to her at this time. So, she used the facilities that she did have, though flailing and terribly enfeebled, she struck out at the men.

It went dark pretty quickly. She knew that she had been knocked out.

It was different now though. When she became aware again, when she regained consciousness, she realised that she could move. Her hand strayed to the bindings under her breasts and she started to scratch vigorously at it.

Aww Yeah.. fuck you, itch.

She grunted in discontent when a pair of large hands grasped hers, halting her attentions to her most annoying injury. Her eyes snapped open and she glared at whomever was restraining her fingernails from doing their job.

"Please don't punch me again." He said sardonically as her menacing glare met his eyes.

He was slim and probably tall, she couldn't tell from her position on the bed. He was quite the hottie, if you were into the intellectual surfer look; blond hair, slicked back to try and hide the fact that it naturally curled, large green eyes, made to seem larger by the thick rimmed glasses that seemed to casually jaunt on the end of his nose. Amazing bone structure, long thick lashes and a well formed mouth with a very tidy set of lush looking lips. He was older than the average surfer, maybe his early forties, though he wore his years very, very well. He gave Zac a run for his money in the looks department, may have even edged him out a little. The whole effect though, was slightly ruined by the big, dark bruise that painted almost the entire right side of his face. He delicately prodded it to accentuate his request.

Max took a moment to familiarise herself with her surroundings, looking away from the handsome man she assumed was one of the physicians, the lab coat sort of gave it away. She was in a military style barracks, converted into a med bay and triage. Several beds lined the walls separated by screens. It was nothing exciting. She noted the other man who had come to his feet behind the blonde. He left the desk he had been sitting at and walked over after hearing the blonde speaking to her. A dark skinned man, average height, older. The blonde took note of her observations.

"This is Dr Argyll, chief and only physician at the Nellis Resort and Spa." The tall guy introduced the doctor with an inclination of his head and bored sounding voice. "I am his humble, interim assistant, Arcade Gannon." He gave a bow and an offhand type of flourish that he didn't wholly commit to.

"What happened to Craig?" Max finally found her voice and it didn't sound pretty. Her throat was parched and the words came out as a distorted croak rather than a query.

"Ah yes… Boone was becoming a pain in my arse, so to speak, and I was forced to sedate him." Dr Gannon replied with a tight grin. "He will be… unhappy… when he wakes. But what price for a few hours of peace and quiet." He nodded in the direction of the bed behind the screen next to hers.

Max scrambled from her bed, kicking at the tangled blankets to get her feet free to swing them over the side. Gannon rolled his eyes and sighed… she was going to be one of _those_ patients… goodie.

Max made it to her feet and swayed there for a moment as a wave of vertigo and nausea swept over her. She took the few unsteady steps around the screen and clamped her eyes on Boone. He was laying on his back with his mouth open, snoring softly. He had neither his beret or sunglasses on and in repose, the handsome sniper looked much younger that he was. She quirked a small crooked smile and took the last few steps to his side, sitting down on the edge of his bed and smoothing her hand over his forehead in over his short blond hair.

"So, the two of you really are an item? The wonders will never cease." Gannon had been at her side the whole time, making sure she didn't stumble, his sardonic drawl was even slightly sexy, Max decided.

"Gannon?" She said, a lilt in her croaky voice as Boone snuffled and tried to brush her hand away in his induced slumber, "I've heard your name few times. You're one of Couriers friends?"

"Friend is a word that hides a number of sins… yes, let's go with friend." He smiled.

"Where is he? Where is everyone else?" She asked accepting a glass of water from the other doctor, Argyll and sipping it carefully.

"I don't think you're quite strong enough for this sort of thing yet." Gannon replied holding out his hand to help her back to her own bed.

"What sort of thing? Knowing where they are? Where are they?" She insisted ignoring his offered hand and narrowing her eyes.

"Dr Cade is here. He's sleeping. The man has barely left your side for a second, since we got you here. He's almost as bad as Boone. The others in your party have all gone. Maxson to the Brotherhood with ummmm… Hobson? And the Courier… well, l actually I don't know where the Courier's gone, but he took the pretty, young thing… RJ? with him. Please get back to bed. You're still recovering from dying."

It was then that Dylan Cade bustled into the room. He stopped at the threshold and stared at her for a full minute, as if disbelieving she was really there.

"Max." He breathed, before barreling towards her taking her up in a slightly more vigorous than warranted hug. "By Steel, you're awake. What are you doing out of bed? Let me check your vitals. You need to lie down. God, I thought I'd lost you. What happened to Boone?" He looked down at Boones relaxed form in confusion before dismissing him. He was fine. He helped Max back to her bed. "You died… you honest to steel, died." He breathed, settling her gently back on her bed. "I thought…" He shook his head.

"I'm fine Dylan, stop fussing." She croaked out again, it was admittedly quite painful to talk. "You need to tell me what's going on. Where are the other guys?"

"Of course… of course." He shook his head to clear it "You were stung by a Cazador, and we went about treating the wound and the poison… but that's not what killed you. You went into anaphylactic shock, you were allergic to the poison. It wasn't until we got you here that we realised that we weren't treating everything and the poison stopped the stimpaks from working… it was my worst nightmare."

"And yet… here I am, alive and well. "She grinned. "Well, alive anyway. I knew you were the best."

Cade blushed and looked away.

"When you started to improve the Elder and Zac went to meet with Elder McNamara. Courier started getting messages from all over, as soon as people realised he was back in the Mojave. One of them got his attention, he seriously wasn't going to leave until he got that one. He asked MacCready to go along seeing as Boone refused to leave you." Cade looked over at Boone again.

"They sedated him." Max supplied.

"Ahhh. Well, he was becoming bothersome. He refused to budge, I don't think he slept more than an hour or so." Cade shrugged and glanced up at Gannon who had folded himself into an empty chair and was listening attentively.

"What happened to your face? Did Boone do that?" Cade asked in surprise.

"No." The tall, handsome doctor replied with a grimace, "The half dead, damsel in distress did. It was crushing to my masculinity."

Cade chuckled. "My patients always seem to wake up when I'm not around and someone always gets hurt. So, you can blame me, Arcade."

"How long have I been out?" Max asked suddenly, the more she spoke the easier it became.

"Nine days. The stimpaks have only just started working on you again." Cade said with satisfied smile. "I'm afraid to say you have a new permanent scar, but everything else should be well on the way to healing... We were just waiting for you to wake up... hoping really, we weren't sure if you were brain damaged or..."

"How long will Craig be out?" She asked Gannon, who should have looked at least a little guilty, but didn't.

"Quite a while… It was a pretty big dose and he's had a follow up jab just to be sure… let's say… twelve hours?" He replied.

"OK so, I'll need my gear... And something to eat." She said, "You coming, Dylan?"

"Where?... What?" Cade said confused.

"I have an appointment with Elder Nolan McNamara and as soon as Craig is awake to guide me, I'm leaving."


	60. Chapter 60

**AN: If you were one of the nine or ten peope who read Chapter 59 when it was just a note saying how crap I was and not an actual chapter. You need to go back and read that first. Otherwise... here we go...**

 **Chapter 60 – All Those Questions Left Unanswered**

Even in a diminished capacity such as she was, Max was formidable. Which is why Boone and Cade found themselves helping her into her armour and gathering their own things in preparation to leave Nellis Air Force Base. They argued… of course they had argued, it just didn't get them anywhere. Max had set her mind to something and once that was done, regardless of the potential consequences, it would be done. Exhibit A: Trekking across the entire North American continent based on a one line message that made no sense from a man she didn't know.

But she was going to get her answers. They had made it to the Mojave wasteland and the answers that she was seeking were only a few short miles away in an underground bunker, populated by the Mojave chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel.

Boone was being obstinant, Cade was being a nag and Max was as weak as a kitten, being dead does that to a girl. But she was determined to get this over and done with.

She was dressed once again in her comfortable, lived in leathers, her armour and she was suitably armed. She still had Maxsons fully operational Pipboy around her wrist from its use during her convalescence, which was nice though she wanted hers back at some stage and the upside was Boones was also good to go, so they could still communicate if they needed to.

Max had the decency to wait until the following morning to go. It gave everyone the opportunity to calm down, have a rest and take advantage of a full day of travel and for the first time ever, Max had the opportunity to wake up in Craig Boones arms.

Unlike snuggling up to Cade in Half Mouse Cave, which she had enjoyed, there was very little 'comfort' in waking up with Boones solid arms wrapped around her. It was more… stirring than comfortable. Sleeping next to Cade had been like being wrapped in feather duvet with a hot chocolate and a good book. Sleeping next to Boone was definitely not that. She was in no condition to act on the sensations that the action evoked, but that didn't stop her breath from hitching and her heart rate to speed up. She knew when he awoke, his tightly muscled arms constricted around her, pulling her even closer, if that were possible and she felt his breath breeze hotly passed her ear.

"We don't have to go." He whispered, his raspy morning voice was stupidly sexy. "…not yet."

He was careful to hold her tight but was mindful that she was still fragile.

"We're going, Craig." She had whispered back, ready to argue all over again.

He didn't argue, he growled in her ear and it sent a shiver up her spine. "I have waited months to wake up in a bed, holding you... and when it finally happens, I can't take advantage of it." He loosened his grip on her and sighed. "It sucks, I hate Cazadors." He grumbled. "We should go then, get this over with, but I still say we should wait for Courier and RJ to get back."

"We don't know when they'll be back." She replied, reluctantly drawing away from him and sitting up. "and what about Arthur and Zac?"

"Don't care." He muttered, sitting up as well and burying his face in her hair where it met her shoulders. He loved the smell of her hair.

* * *

The three of them assembled in the yard outside of the infirmary. A few of the Boomers stood around and watched them for a while. Word of Max defying death had done the rounds of the base and some had not yet gotten a good look at her.

The stimpaks were still working on her slowly and she could still feel the after effects of the sting, poison and whatever Cade had done to her to bring her back to life. She had heard he had broken her ribs and pumped her full of Psycho. She didn't really want to know. Her newest scar was a perfectly round puncture wound about the size of a bottle cap, just below her ribcage. It was kind of badass

Max checked the time on Maxsons pipboy and signalled that it was time to move out. They began walking towards the front gate of the base. All seemed well but as they approached they saw the gate guards raise their rocket launchers and they heard a shouted order to arm the Howitzers. Max detected the faint sound of vertibird engines and moments later, sure enough, a bird appeared in the air to the south west.

The whole base seemed to tense and dozens of fingers lingered on the triggers of their weapons. The bird slowed in its approach under the watchful and suspicious glares of the Boomers and slowly descended onto the old, rutted road that led to New Vegas, but just outside of the range of the Boomers formidable arsenal.

Max and Boone both drew their rifles off of their shoulders and looked down their scopes at the Vertibird. It may have been out of range of the explosive ordinance but not out of range of the two snipers. Boone spoke up first.

"Brotherhood markings," He grunted. "Mojave boys don't have birds"

Max peered through her scope, her finger hovering over the trigger as three people jumped down from the back of the small, noisy aircraft and she let out a breath of relief as she recognised all three of them, though one was a big surprise.

Courier Six, RJ MacCready and Elder Byron Dekker of the Midwestern chapter had alighted and were walking openly towards the gate. The Boomers wouldn't ever fire on the Courier, so they all had lowered their weapons and were watching the trio approach the gates on foot. Dekker was a massive unit and MacCready was quite tiny by comparison. Hell, even the Courier was dwarfed by the seven foot tall Elder. It was quite funny to watch the three of them walking side by side. They were let through the gates without hesitation and the Courier shouted into his pipboy after a quick word to the guards. The Vertibird took off from outside of the gates and flew over into the interior of the Boomers compound.

Courier then noticed Max, Boone and Cade standing not too far from the gate and strode towards them.

"What the fuck are you doing up?" He demanded angrily of Max before tugging her into a rough hug. He released her just as abruptly and turned on Cade and Boone "Why is she up? Why is she outside, in armour and carrying a rifle? She was _dead_ ten days ago."

Max let him rant at the others and focused on RJ's gentle hug instead. He didn't need to say anything. Then she looked up at the towering Brotherhood Elder.

"Byron." She greeted him familiarly, with a grin.

"Half dead and still as breathtaking as ever. Hello, General." He rumbled in return, unleashing his dimples to full effect. He took her hand and skimmed his lips over her knuckles.

"What brings you to…" She started but was rudely interrupted by Courier Six.

"Boone, pick up your girlfriend and get her back inside, we have things to discuss."

Boone didn't question his orders. He handed RJ Maxs rifle and picked her up bridal style and began striding back towards the hangars. She didn't even protest, she was so stunned.

"I can walk." She chastised him when she regained her faculties.

"Don't care." He countered.

The other men trailed behind them.

"If Courier told you to jump off a cliff, would you do it?" She asked snidely as Boone pushed through the infirmary door.

"He already has" Boone replied, lowering her into the chair by their recently vacated bed. "and I did."

"Oh yeah … I remember that… good times." Courier chuckled as he shoved his way into the infirmary. Boone smirked and sat down on the bed waiting for the others to assemble themselves. Dragging chairs and rearranging furniture at will. Dr Argyll, who was a quiet, unobtrusive man, could only look on despairingly as they dismantled his surgery.

"Don't worry Doc, we'll put it all back." Courier assured him as he pushed a table across the floor before slouching into a chair in front of it, plonking his weighted pack on the table top. "Is Arcade around?"

"I believe he is in the Mess." Argyll informed him despondently, sitting back down at his desk.

"RJ, you wanna grab one of the kids from outside to go fetch him?"

'Yessir." MacCready quickly made to leave, looking over his shoulder. "Don't start without me."

"You're all good, Major." Courier grunted, pulling open his pack, digging into it and withdrawing files of paperwork and slapping them on the table one after the other. "Wouldn't dream of it." He reached back into his pack and pulled out a handful of holotapes and dropped them on the table top with a clatter as MacCready disappeared through the door.

Elder Dekker sat down at the Couriers left and began sorting through the pile that had emerged from the pack and lay one particular one in front of the Courier. The Courier nodded his head in wry acceptance and looked up at Max.

"What is this about?" She asked warily.

"We're waiting for RJ… and I'm not quite sure where to start." He rumbled softly.

Max didn't like the look that he was sending her. It seemed apologetic? Dekker looked very serious as well, as he sat towering at the Couriers side… he also looked… determined? She did not like the vibes she was picking up at all.

The Courier picked up one of the largest files and put it on top of the one that Dekker had placed before him. He seemed to want to go another route first. They all sat in uneasy silence waiting for RJ to return and Arcade to join them.

MacCready was back in no time though it seemed to those waiting, it was hours. And maybe ten minutes later at the most Arcade sauntered through the door, his lab coat slung over his shoulder and glasses balancing on top of her head. He stopped in the doorway as he surveyed the grave faces in front of him.

"Is this an intervention?" He queried politely. "because I only tried mentats the one time… I swear."

"Sit." Courier said.

"Right here or can I come into the room?" Arcade drawled.

Courier gritted his teeth. "Come in and sit down… please. And thank you for joining us in such a timely manner. I know it must be a huge imposition to you." He turned away from the doctor and looked at Max, dismissing Gannon as he took a seat next to Cade.

Courier took a deep breath before he started to speak. "Max, I…" He sighed and looked away from her. This was going to be bad. He opened the thick file he had pulled before him.

He began to read from the front page."Maxine Lillian Everton nee' Hall. Born: 24th May 2048. Mother: Patricia Mildred Hall nee' Stapleton. Father: Bradley Donald Hall (LT Colonel, United States Army). Enlisted: 7th February 2066. Deployed: Anchorage, Alaska 31st December 2066. Rank: Redacted. ID Number: Redacted. Discharged: 31st August 2076. Current Status: Redacted" The Courier looked up from the file and fixed his eyes on Maxs.

"You have my military file." She stated with a shrug.

"It has your enlistment papers, your transcripts, deployment to Alaska and then it turns into this." He held up the filed for her to see. Pages and pages of blacked out words, each stamped with the big red font; redacted and classified.

"Yep... I was recruited to black ops during my tour in Anchorage." She shrugged again.

Courier nodded. "Yeah, I just wanted to show you that what we have is the real deal."

Max got up from her chair and walked to the table to get a closer look at the file. She flicked through the blacked out pages until she came to a photograph of a couple unaware they were being watched, at what looked like a celebration of some kind. Max quirked a sad smile at the woman standing to attention in front of the tall, broad shouldered man in dress uniform, his back to the camera and a black spot was painted over the face of the woman. The picture was dated 4th July 2074. It was the day she and Nate had become reacquainted in Boston Common. She always knew she was under surveillance.

"This is the real deal." She said closing the file decisively and looking up at the Courier expectantly.

He sighed and picked up the file underneath Maxs hefty, though unreadable, file and put on the top. He opened the file and Max instantly recognised her fathers picture.

"Bradley Donald Hall...' The Courier started.

"Just tell me what this is about?" Max snapped. She wasn't sure what was going on but she didn't like it.

Elder Dekker decided to intervene then.

"I've got this, Courier." He rumbled "Just make sure she doesn't kill me."

Courier could have hugged the man.

"Max. We got all of this from Elder McNamara." Dekker stood up and stepped away from table, he always thought more clearly when he was on his feet and it increased the distance between Max and himself. "A while ago, in preparation for the council to affirm Elder Maxson as the New High Elder, Nolan dug into some very old pre war records and stumbled upon some inconsistencies." He explained. "They were mainly concerned with General Gerard Maxson. That's Roger Maxsons father. When Nolan dug a little deeper, as he does, he uncovered a few skeletons in the Generals closet. And if you dig deep enough you'll find that everything has been documented thoroughly."

"If you ask me, Nolan has far too much time on his hands." Dekker groused under his breath before he continued "Your mother, Patricia, was in secretarial services for the Army Reserve Base in Pasadena, California."

"Yeah, it's where she met my father… They were married in California a couple of years before my dad was reassigned to Fort Hagen not long before I was born." Max affirmed not liking this one bit. She could feel tension building her shoulders.

"Right and the Commanding Officer at Fort Hagen was General George M Martine who was a very good friend of the CO at the Army Reserve Base in Pasadena – one General Gerard Maxson." It was Dekkers turn to take deep breath "Max. You need to read your fathers medical files. They will confirm that your father, Bradley Hall, was sterile due to prolonged exposure to radiation during the testing of nuclear payload. Max, you need to read _your_ DNA report and then you need to read Gerard Maxsons…" Dekkers deep voice petered off as Maxs eyes began to flash warningly.

Courier stood up from his seat and looked her in the eye.

"You remember when Joshua said 'unless there was another Maxson to build a cult around'?" Courier asked. "It seems there is."


	61. Chapter 61

**AN: Those of you who have followed this from the start... Please let me know if I have screwed with my own lore or timeline (or actual Fallout lore or timeline) and I will fix it. Otherwise...**

 **Chapter 61 – The Cult of Maxine Maxson**

The Courier was prepared for a punch to the face. He was braced for it, he was even leaning towards her, over the table top. The punch did not come. Her eyes were smouldering with barely contained rage, with hurt and with a hundred other raw emotions all rolled into one and they locked onto the Couriers deep chocolate brown stare like they with clutching at some small vestige of hope. Hope that this was cruel trick or a malicious lie.

Max had loved her dad. She had purposefully not thought about him in the last couple of years, sent him to the furthest reaches of her mind where she had kept Nate and Shaun and Danse. She had shaped her old world life to mould with his, joined the army to follow in his footsteps. He was going to be at Nates speech that night. He was pleased as punch when Nate had invited him to attend the ceremony at Fraternal Post 115 in Cambridge. She had collected his old uniform from the drycleaners the day before. Her dad had died more than two hundred and ten years before when the world had gone mad. And now…

Now these Brotherhood bastards were trying to take her dad away from her all over again.

"My father." Max was almost inaudible through her gritted teeth and her body nearly vibrated with feeling, "was Lt. Colonel Bradley Hall of Fort Hagen, Massachusetts."

"Yes, Bradley Hall was your dad, he raised you." Courier pushed, his voice stern. "but your biological father was General Gerard Maxson. You are Roger Maxsons half sister."

Max slammed her fist down on the table top with such force that the paperwork jumped and scattered, the Formica top split and the metal frame bowed. The Courier didn't flinch.

"Max." Courier spat harshly. "Calm down, we need you to hold it together and listen." He cast a long look over her shoulder to Boone, who looked almost as angry as Max did. He was staring at Maxs rigid back. He wasn't making eye contact with the Courier at all. Courier was on his own, even Dekker had backed down and was hovering silently in the background.

"Max, it's all here. Nolan was very, very thorough before he moved on this, he sent whole platoons of scribes to California, this collection of data took years to assemble" He waved his hand over the table top littered with files and holotapes. "There's letters from your mother to Maxson, photos of you growing up. Maxson knew all about you..." He picked up her military file, turned to the first page and pointed to her enlistment and deployment details. "Ever wonder why it took you almost a year to be deployed?… In a time of war, when everyone else got twelve weeks basic and then an indifferent amount of time in core? Maxson called in every favour he had to keep you out of the fight for so long. You must have had more training than any new recruit in history."

Courier wasn't even sure if she was listening anymore, her eyes had taken on the thousand yard stare, though she was still coiled like a spring and ready to burst out of her skin. He kept on talking none the less.

"And then there's your and your families place in Vault 111."

Max blinked suddenly and moved her furious attention back to the Courier.

"Nate was a genuine fucking American war hero." She whispered hoarsely. "And I served my country, without question, for more than a decade. I did unspeakable things, slaughtered thousands without hesitation. I gave my heart and soul. I earned my place in that vault. We _both_ earned our place."

"Yeah, you did. No question, Max. I've seen your classified files. I know what you've done." Courier nodded and Max looked stricken at the admission. Courier gulped. "It also helped that General Maxson was on the Vault-Tec/Military Cooperation Select Committee and that he personally sponsored your inclusion in the vault population pool." He pushed a faded, red classified folder towards her, clearly marked with the Vault-Tec Logo. "He was censured for it. It took him to the last minute to get your place cemented. Your history of…" He stopped short of saying it. He couldn't get the words out. He could have picked any…Violence, unpredictability, mental instability. He'd read her psych report, he'd read it all.

Max glanced down at the Vault-Tec file. "I need to sit down." She said weakly, searching absently around for somewhere to seat herself before she swooned. She felt warm, rough hands wrap around her biceps and she was steered towards the bed to sit. Boone sat her down and hunkered down before her to look her in the eye. He tried to look impassive, the way he normally would approach something like this. But for the first time since he first saw her, she looked lost. She looked small and delicate.

"Dylan." She said softly, her eyes seeking Cade out, almost meekly. "I think I broke my hand."

Courier chewed on his bottom lip as he watched Cade carefully approach Max. They needed to take a minute. They'd unloaded a heap of information on the woman and she was still weakened from the Cazador poison. He took his seat and thought about how to approach the next bit. Dekker seemed to sense the unofficial pause in proceedings and took his seat next to the Courier.

Cade carefully examined Maxs hand. She'd broken the proximal of her pinky finger and at least one of the metacarpals when she had slammed her hand onto the table. He shot a look up into Maxs face. The gears in her head were turning so fast and so erratically he feared that she might exhaust herself. He wished he could medicate her. The best he could do was administer a stimpak and bind her hand to give the bones time to knit.

Max didn't want to think anymore… but there was more to come, she knew it and it was much worse. She clenched her jaw and looked up at the Courier again as soon as Cade and tied off the strapping on her hand and Boone had taken a seat at her side on the bed. He gently took hold of her good hand and ran his thumb over it in lazy soothing circles. Max appreciated the gesture though, in truth, it did little to quite her seething mind.

"OK. What else?" She said resignedly, her tone still hard and defensive but now it was also weary.

Dekker decided to take the lead and spoke up again. "Elder McNamara, in his wisdom, has decided that the Mojave chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel will not support Arthur as High Elder. Sending the Courier to you with the summons wasn't some clerical error or mistake as we originally thought. He wants _you_ to take _your_ place as High Elder… and he's not the only one." Dekker pushed his thick tangle of wild black hair back from his face. "On your way through my territory Elder Maxson was subject to an assassination attempt… I'm sure you recall it." He gave her a wry, weak smile that sparked his dimples to life. "Arthur was targeted by one of my own knights. A man who deemed his watered down Maxson genes as unworthy… unfortunately, due to the quick reflexes of your friends, not only did I not discovered it until recently, I also did not get to question him… He couldn't even be identified, thanks to the admittedly understandable state of his face and it was not until his holotags were found that we even knew who he was."

Boone and RJ had all but exploded the unknown snipers head in quickly dispensed justice.

"I didn't see this happening and I should have, it was my own people for steels sake." He shook his head apologetically "After you all left for Epsilon, after Max told me about receiving the summons from Nolan, I did a little digging myself. The man that took the shot at Maxson in the Midwest was a believer of the new Maxson Messiah. He was intent on removing Maxs competition but the unthinkable happened…'

"Max stepped in and took the hit." Boone growled from beside her.

Dekker nodded "Max took the bullet… he almost assassinated the wrong contender. You might have noticed that there were no more attempts on Arthurs life after that. The General was likely to repeat her acts of selfless heroism after all and they couldn't risk it again."

"You will remember Max that it's not the first time Maxson has been targeted. Nolan had the word out before he sent me and Boone across country to you." Courier added. "The first attempt on Maxsons life was in the Commonwealth not long after I got there."

It was then that MacCready spoke up… it was rare for her friend to say anything in this type of situation.

"Max." The young sniper said softly leaving his seat and standing next to his friend. "Think back to when Maxson was shot on the deck of the Prydwen. We were thinking that someone like the Enclave were trying to take him out… some people even thought that you were being framed for it. I mean, remember Rhys saying that? The shooter even used a .50cal like yours… But, what if they weren't trying to frame you? What if they were trying to be like you? Copy you? They say that imitations the sincerest form of flattery right? Who wouldn't want to, not only be like you, but also help you take your rightful place"

"Or at least what they perceive as your rightful place." Courier added. "It's a good theory, RJ."

The sniper flushed at the praise and sat down on Maxs other side.

"I'm not even in the Brotherhood." Max said softly, taking in everything they were saying searching her memory for any hint that this stuff was going on all around her without all of their notice.

"I don't think it matters." Dekker advised her carefully. "The Midwest, especially after you were actually there, meeting my people, they will accept you. You're already a proven leader, you are more tolerant than Arthur, and you have already proven you can work effectively with the Brotherhood of Steel. As for Nolan, well, he and his lot see your blood as more pure than Arthurs, you are half Maxson, you and Roger share the same father. Arthur is a direct descendant but something can be said for almost two centuries of dilution. I can tell you right off the bat, if you wanted it, the Mojave and the Midwest would be right behind you."

Max was shaking her head in denial but the Courier wasn't going to let that happen, he ploughed on.

"The Brotherhood of Steel is split…. Across the entire continent, it's on the verge of war with itself. On the one side you have those who back Arthur Maxson, the Elder of the East Coast Chapter and direct descendant of Roger Maxson. And then you have the rest, who are looking to Roger Maxsons own sister, who was a war hero in her own right. Risen from the ashes of the old world to lead the Brotherhood of Steel into a new one."

Max was hearing words like believer, follower and perhaps the most disturbing 'Messiah', being bandied about a little too freely for her liking. Cade was looking at her, his face was a picture of conflicting emotions. He had treated her hand without comment. He had sat there this entire time without uttering a single word. Max wanted to know what the man was thinking. What did he think about all that was being said? It was his Elder that she was apparently and unwittingly usurping.

And Dekker…Dekker had said that the Midwest would accept her. What did that even mean? Did it mean that Dekker wanted her as High Elder as well? Was it all of the Midwest?

What about the Capital? The Commonwealth? The 'talk' had obviously spread there as well… if in fact the first attempt on Arthurs life was linked to one of her 'followers'.

"Where is Arthur?" Max asked suddenly, her voice dangerously low. "He went to the Brotherhood bunker, right? Where is he now?"

"Elder McNamara sealed the bunker and refused to even speak to him." Courier said sadly, "He's in New Vegas. I sort of have him under house arrest… so to speak. I didn't want him to do anything stupid. He's fine and Zac is with him."

"I need to see him." She said, standing up. "and I need to see him, now. This is utter bullshit."

"Max don't be so hasty." Dekker said standing up as well, his seven feet of height filling the room. "You need to think about everything we've told you. I know you're not interested in becoming the high anything. I know you don't see yourself as some messiah. And that you're angry. But Arthur has had a shock too. He knows what we know. I was in the Bunker when he arrived. I sent the message to the Courier as soon as I could so that he could be contained. We need to think how this can be rectified."

"This will be rectified by me talking to Arthur, taking him to California and making him High Elder." Max grated forcefully. "Take me to him."

"I will take you to him." Courier said complacently. "Of course I will. I didn't know you were awake or if you'd wake up at all. I don't know if we approached this the right way." He waved his arm over the debris of paperwork across the split table. "I thought we'd have time to formulate… a plan or a flow chart or something. Max, I want you to think about everything fully, you need time to process this and when you have an idea of what you will say to Arthur, with all of the facts and a clear head… and you are strong enough… I will take you."

"I'll read it all. And listen to it all. And then you'll take me and then I'll fix this." She agreed, her voice quiet.


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter 62 – Heart to Heart**

The Courier had said it was all there… that wasn't true. Her classified file wasn't among the piles of paperwork and holotapes that he had assembled for her. That meant that he had either held it back from her or Elder Nolan McNamara still had it.

They had not bought everything... just enough to convince her of her true heritage. McNamara apparently still had huge amounts of data rolling around in his bunker. Max wanted it all and she wanted to talk to the Elder; the man who presumed to peer into her life and had the audacity to make the huge leap of arrogance that she would want anything to do with his scheme of making her the High Elder. She wasn't some fucking chess piece to be moved about the board at will nor was she some puppet to prop up for the world to see whilst her strings were pulled in the background.

She didn't want this legacy bullshit. She wanted to put Arthur in the hot seat. He wanted it. He was born to it. It had been ingrained into his every fibre ever since he was a small boy. All the pressure, the sacrifice the young man had made... and just to be tossed aside so callously because some old world general couldn't keep it in his pants and some feckless secretary worked one too many hours of overtime. Max wished she could talk to her mother right now… she really, really wished she could have her hands wrapped around her willowy throat.

And her dad… The poor man had known all along that she wasn't his daughter, that his wife was unfaithful. Max couldn't imagine what it must have been like for him to look at another mans daughter everyday and pretend it didn't matter to him. It had to.

Max tossed aside one of her mothers simpering letters to Gerard Maxson. Max was apparently six years old at the time. The crackly old envelope held the letter and a small well preserved photograph of little Maxine grinning up at the camera while furiously peddling a tricycle… her _real_ father appearing to be running along behind her, trying to catch up with the little girl. She had never seen the photo before. She tossed it aside as well and took up the next envelope.

Boone picked up the photo and looked at it briefly, picked up the discarded letter and folded it neatly, the way it had been before Max had roughly yanked it from its envelope and put it away, placing it on top of the growing pile of examined items.

It had been going on like this for a while. She hadn't said anything and nor did he expect her to. Every now and then she would snort… or make some other sound of distain. He noted however, that she had not broken contact with him. She had started out sitting side by side with him, reading though the easiest stuff to tackle like her military file (the redacted version). Now she was laying on her side, her head resting on his thigh as she poured over the personal letters between her mother and her biological father. She handed him things and he put them aside and while he did peek at the photographs that were handed to him, he didn't read anything.

She tore open another letter, read through it quickly and tossed it aside. Boone gathered it up with its envelope glanced at the discarded photograph and filed it neatly with the rest… and so it went on.

* * *

Proctor Dylan Cade rolled over in his cot and lay his head back down onto the pillow. Sleep was eluding him. He should be tired. He should be exhausted but his active mind would not be quieted.

He was not sure how to process the events of the day. His Elder was not the last Maxson and Max was being pulled and manipulated into the Brotherhood of Steels political intrigues. He doubted that she was sleeping right now.

He wondered what she was feeling. What it must be like to discover that she was some lauded saviour, to carry the guilt that he knew she would, for taking something away from her friend and perhaps the worst and most hurtful, that her father was betrayed and she was lied to about her lineage.

Over the course of the months of travel and even before that, when she was just the General of the Commonwealth Minutemen, he had come to respect the woman. True, she was difficult at times, but she had only the best of intentions and she proved time and time again that she would defend her friends even to the death if needs be. He felt more than friendship for her, she was like a daughter of his own or a younger sister… some kind of young relative.

He was jolted from his thought train and the slow decline into sleep by a sharp rap on the door of his room. He frowned in the dark, rolled himself out of his bed and padded to the door, yawning. He eased open the door.

"Dylan, they knew all along." Max said roughly, waving a sheaf of paper under his bewildered nose. "I had my first _episode_ in Anchorage. They knew I was mentally retarded or whatever and that's why I was reassigned."

He reached for the paperwork that was flapping around in front of him and opened his door fully. Max stomped into his room and rounded on him, waiting for him to organize his thoughts and gather his disorientated faculties.

"You're not retarded." He muttered, focusing on the files that she had shoved at him. It was a few lose pages from her military file. Most of it was blanked out and stamped with the words redacted and classified but some words were still visible… nothing to validate what she was saying though.

'No…Look." She switched on his bedside lamp and held the paper to it, the original text was still slightly visible under the black out. "See that? 'psychotic episode'… Psychotic!" She raged. "and here '… immediate reassignment to …something… suited to the... something… violent tendencies.' I can't read it all, but…"

Cade squinted at the page. He had wondered why no one in her military career had addressed her condition… They _had_ addressed it, coldly, by turning her into a weapon.

Max sat down heavily on his bed, her eyes had gone distant and her mind had wandered off in the same far away direction.

"I remember losing time… during the battle… it was sooo cold and the air was just thick with the smell of blood and smoke, my whole unit was being destroyed around me. We were surrounded and cut off from the rest of our forces and the Chinese outnumbered us… so many … I remember Conway shouting at me and I remember someone pushing me aside. I remember lying on the ground looking into Jacksons eyes, they were wide open and unreal… dead. And that's it." She shook her head absently, her eyes fixed on a point so far in the past that Cade had trouble comprehending it. "I guess I came back to myself, I was surrounded by death, a massacre… I didn't understand then… but I do now. It was me… I did that."

Cade sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

"I think it happened when Nate died too." She whispered softly. "But… I guess I was trapped and couldn't do anything about it. When I was in the memory lounger watching Kelloggs memories I saw myself going crazy in the cryopod. I had beat my fists bloody against the window… I don't remember doing that. I remember the moment that Kellogg pulled the trigger… and then nothing. I woke up sixty years later"

She blinked away a tear and looked over into Cades eyes. "You're the first one to see." She murmured.

"Everyone in the Institute that night saw…" Cade replied.

"No, that's not what I mean." She interrupted taking his hand. "you're the first one to care to see."

Cade smiled gently and gathered her in closer, resting his chin on the top of her head. "When we first met, I told you it was my job to look after my peoples mental health as well as their physical injuries… you're one of my people, you mean the world to me."

"You know I love you, right?" Her voice was muffled against him, "I would never do anything to hurt you or any one of you guys."

Cade felt a lump in his throat at the casual admission. "I love you too. And we all know this isn't… none of this is your fault. And I know this won't change anything. You had a mission to meet with Elder McNamara and make Arthur the High Elder… and you always do what you set out to do." He pressed his lips to the top of her head.

The two of them sat side by side for a long time in silence until Cade thought she had fallen asleep against him… that was until she spoke again.

"So, …. Dr Gannon is pretty hot, aye?"

He let go of her and pushed her off of him in an embarrassed huff.

"Get out."

She laughed softly, "What? I'm just saying. Don't tell me you aren't interested."

He blushed and then got titchy about blushing. Max saw everything and it was as good as an admission of guilt. He may as well calmly and logically humour her, preserve the levity before everything got serious again.

He sighed. "Of course I noticed, but I was trying to save your life and have been a little distracted. He is very attractive."

Max snorted in an unladylike fashion, shuffled back on his bed and leaned against the wall.

"Attractive?... He's Hot. Craig's damn lucky I met him first." Max grinned. "and that Gannon is not interested in ladies."

"Where is Boone?" Cade asked.

"He fell asleep… and don't change the subject."

"Max listen, while I appreciate the interest in my personal life… Dr Gannon is a little out of my league… it would be like me thinking I had a chance with you… if circumstances were different, of course."

"You'd totally have a chance with me."

Cade laughed. "I'm just flicking though your romantic history in my head Max: Your husband was stunning, Danse was gorgeous, the Elder is, though I really shouldn't say this, very handsome… and Boone…I mean, seriously?"

"You think the Courier is gorgeous?" She crowed gleefully. "I knew you were sweet on him."

He gave her a hard look. "He's a very good friend. I can appreciate a good looking man without 'being sweet' on him."

Max smiled "Anyway… what the heck do you mean, 'he's out of your league'? Have you seen yourself? You're totally hot, especially after all this travelling. You've become this rugged hard arse… and you're smarter than he is… he should be so lucky."

Cade didn't say anything, he just looked at her.

"I'm serious, Dylan." Max insisted her face serious. "You've become one of the most important people in my life and I want you to be happy. Once Arthur is High Elder, you're staying here with him, right? I just think you should get in there and have a go, no need to live like a monk and I think the hot Doctor would be open to the idea as well."

"What about you Max?" Cade asked, swiftly taking focus off him. "What are you going to do?"

"Subtle…" She admonished with a grin, but allowed it, seeing him flush with embarassment. "I am going to talk to Arthur and reassure him I'm not interested in being High Elder. Then I'm going to talk to Elder McNamara and tell him to kindly keep the fuck out of my business. And then I'm going to fix the Brotherhood of Steel."

"That's not what I meant. What are you going to do after that?" Cade watched the smile fall from her face and be replaced by an expression of consternation.

"I've been avoiding thinking about it." She confessed softly.

"Are you and RJ just going to turn around and go back? You and Boone have this thing… What will happen there?" Cade pressed.

"I don't know… I don't… What do you think I should do?"

"I think it comes down to a few simple questions." Cade answered. "Does the Commonwealth have that great a tie on you? Can you see yourself here and what will you do here for a crust? And … do you love him?"

It was Maxs turn to stay silent.

"You have to see that he loves you… really, really loves you" Cade felt a little guilty for pushing, she had so much on her mind right now. "He would go with you, I'm pretty sure he'd die for you if you asked him."

Max leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.

* * *

Boone woke up with a start and looked around himself blearily. Max was gone.

The pile of paperwork next to him had toppled into his lap. He grimaced and pushed it all back into a tidy pile, picking up Maxs open military file and closing it and putting it on the top. Where had she gone?

He eased himself off the bed and stretched, he had a crink in his neck from sleeping sitting up with his chin resting on his chest. He was probably snoring and it drove her off. Good one, Craig.

Some of the pages had been removed from her file, he thought suddenly, his brain finally picking up on what his eyes had seen a moment ago. He picked up the file and opened it to the torn pages. Like almost everything in the folder, the words were blanked out and stamped with big red lettering, but the symbol on the corner of the pages on either side of the tears was unmistakable. It was a medical report. She must have gone to see Cade about something.

He stepped out into the corridor and made his way to the Proctors room a couple of doors down but froze to the spot when he clearly heard Cades voice ask "And … do you love him?" Boone gulped, staining to hear the reply. The reply didn't come and Cades voice continued uninterrupted.

"You have to see that he loves you… really, really loves you. He would go with you, I'm pretty sure he'd die for you if you asked him."

Boone breath hitched in his chest and he closed his eyes… hoping that his ears would grow and his hearing would get better if he cut off one of his other senses. He'd read that could happen.

He took a couple of soundless steps towards Cades door and waited, she had to say something… any second now.

"I would never ask him to." Her voice sounded sad.

"Are you going to talk to him about it?" Cade asked.

Silence. So much silence.

Boone lifted his hand and placed his palm flat against the door… she was right there. He could go in now and tell her he'd go with her back to the Commonwealth. He could tell her that he was in love with her. He could say any number of things. But he let his hand fall back to his side… he turned away from the door and walked back towards Max's room.


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter 63 – The Lucky 38**

There had been a few raised eyebrows in the corridor outside of the dorms. Courier, MacCready, Gannon and Dekker had met up and were about to seek out breakfast when the General and the Proctor exited _his_ room together arm and arm and a moment later Boone stomped out of Maxs room alone and looking particularly out of sorts. They choose not to question it.

The Courier was further surprised when Boone sat at the opposite end of the table from Max, eating in silence and glaring at his plate through his aviators. He could see his friend folding in on himself and when Courier glanced in Maxs direction, she looked equally confused by the odd behavior.

As they all loaded themselves into the Brotherhood Vertibird for the short trip to the strip, Boone handed Max into her seat and then waited for everyone else to board before once again sitting as far from her as possible. Courier sighed inwardly… like this was what they needed… another drama. He'd talk to Boone while Max was talking to Maxson. Ah, bless his moody, socially incompetent friend.

The flight over the Mojave towards New Vegas took mere minutes… Max was sure the preflight checks took longer and in no time at all, the vertibird touched down at the foot of the wide sweeping steps leading up to the Lucky 38 Casino.

A crowd had gathered on the strip, all gawking at the Brotherhood of Steel airship, packed with an assortment of interesting people.

The crowds were a curious mix of NCR soldiers, wastelanders, wealthy land owners and mercs and a very high population of military grade securitrons. Each onlooker was wide eyed and in various states of inebriation as the passengers disembarked one at a time within a wide circle of curious faces.

Courier jumped down first. There were gasps as he was recognised. Who in New Vegas didn't recognise the last, best hope for humanity? The man who led the Mojave, in all of her forms, against Caesars legion at Hoover Dam and restored the tenuous peace that had reigned for nearly a decade. Murmurs rose as Boone leapt down from the other side, the legendary former NCR sniper who was single handedly waging a war against the plague in crimson, one bullet at a time. Everyone knew these two men.

MacCready, Cade and Gannon climbed down, followed by the towering Elder Dekker, who drew a gasp of his own, just with his menacing, almost superhuman, presence. And lastly the Elder handed Max down from the bird. She drew whispers from the crowd as she looked up at the soaring hotel and marched without a backwards glance up the stairs, her head high and face set with determination. The others had to scramble to catch up with her.

She was headed off at the massive double doors by a securitron with the projected face of an old time cowboy.

"Well, howdy there, ma'am." The machine intoned in a friendly Texan twang. "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to turn yourself around and walk back down these here steps. The Lucky 38 is restricted to private guests of Mr House."

Max smiled at the robot, picking up on the folksey tone.

"I'm Max Everton, Sheriff of Dry Rock Gulch." She tipped her helmet forwards in greeting, her adopted southern accent as thick as his. "You are currently in custody of one Arthur Maxson. I'm here to claim jurisdiction over him."

"Sheriff eh?" The robot mused. "Mr Maxson is a guest of Mr House, so I can't just be handing him over. What's he guilty of?'

"The man's a dangerous criminal, runs with the Prydwen gang from out east." She replied seriously, "he's a known Brahmin worrier and jay walker… he also stole from the tip jar at the Third Rail, or so I've heard tell."

"Hey Victor." Couriers voice interrupted from behind her. "How're my guests doing?"

"How do, pard'ner." The securitron greeted him, his projector screen swivelling away from Max. "Well sir, Mr Hobson is settled in real well, built up quite the rapport with Miss Ronnie. The other one, the criminal Maxson… he's been out of sorts, been keeping to his own self."

"Crimin..?" Courier gave Max an unimpressed look and rolled his eyes. "He's no criminal, Victor. Max is just playing with you. When did Ronnie get here?"

"Miss Ronnie moseyed on in not long after you left yesterday." The robot, Victor replied.

"Kay, we're going up… Can you log Max and Cade into the visitors access book?" Courier said, taking hold of Maxs arm and leading her through the doors into the interior of the casino, leaving Victor to greet the rest of their group. Max found her arms to be a little too convenient to the Courier, he always seemed to be manhandling her via her biceps.

"Howdy Mr Boone, Mr Gannon. Nice to see y'all again Mr Dekker, Mr MacCready… you must be Mr Cade. Much obliged…."

"Be careful what you say to the Securitrons, Max, they ain't got much of a sense of humour." Courier admonished Max lightly as he pulled her across the casino floor towards the elevator, leaving the others to trail along behind them.

Max took in the Casino as she was dragged across it. Everything was old world, pristine and bright. The only thing it lacked was patrons. The lights were all on, the tables laden with decks of cards and trays of chips, the glasses in the bar were dust free and the piles of coasters, all printed with the casinos name and logo stood in uniform towers. The sound system pumped out big band music, the slots all blinked and played their various jingles and sound effects attempting to draw the attentions of people who weren't there, trying to fill the void. Max decided it was eerie to be in an empty casino.

Everyone piled into the elevator and were greeted by Victor once again, transferring his personality matrix from one bot to another in the blink of an eye.

"Presidential Suite please, Victor." Courier directed shortly.

The elevator shot upwards and the group travelled in silence, a silence punctuated by the dulcet tones of Peggy Lee droning on about some guy named Johnny through the sound system.

The elevator eventually jolted to a stop and the doors eased open to the vast and opulent foyer of the Presidential Suite. The group were greeted by an eyebot who beeped gleefully at them, bobbing up and down on its jets, a woman in Brotherhood regalia and Zac Hobson, who was dressed like the Courier in a long dark brown duster and a tattered black Stetson, he was wearing shiny brass badge that read 'Croupier'.

"Get it?… Courier… Croupier… ha!" Zac laughed as the Courier eyeballed him. "Only, I'm prettier than you." He looked over the rest of the occupants of the elevator, his bright baby blues falling on Max and they all could see that he could barely contain himself. "Aunty Max!" He cried enthusiastically.

Max gave him a flat irritated stare. "Every single time." She snapped, pushing her way out of the elevator. "Every time I get to feeling that I might like you, you open your mouth and a slew of verbal diarrhoea pours out. You're such a dick!"

"You know, there's probably as much genetic material between you and Elder Maxson as there is between Max and him." Proctor Cade advised coldly.

'Yeah, that's probably true," Zac nodded sagely, though his eyes still glittered. "But _I_ haven't slept with him."

The whole elevator turned stony. Zac grinned.

"Where is he?" Max asked frostily.

'He's in his room" The Brotherhood lady told her, pointing across the lobby towards a resolutely shut door. She had a friendly face, which looked slightly apologetic at Zacs behaviour.

Max nodded at her in thanks, cast one more glare at Zac Hobson and stomped across the lobby to the closed door. She opened it without knocking, stepped through and shut it firmly behind her. The quiet that followed was ominous.

Courier watched the door for a moment, shook his head and led everyone out of the elevator.

"Okay folks," he said with authority. "Let's leave them to it. I'm sure Max's got this." He sighed. "Welcome to the Lucky 38… my home, I guess. Make yourselves comfortable, this is Ronnie." He waved vaguely towards the Brotherhood woman. "I'm going to get a drink."

He trudged away from them all, disappearing into one of the side rooms with the little eyebot bobbing along after him, like a little floating robot puppy. Everyone watched him go and then turned their eyes to Ronnie.

"Hi." She said brightly. She was of average height, but had well formed shoulders and tightly wrapped muscle around her upper arms. She was dressed as a scribe, but she gave off the air of a soldier, a real scrapper too. Her eyes were large and deep brown, like what a doe would have had in the old world and her hair was short, scruffy and the colour of tree bark. Her face was open, honest and happy, belying the gigantic powerfist encasing her right arm.

"Veronica Santangelo," She introduced herself properly "I'll show you guys around, then I guess we wait." She shrugged leading them into the living areas. Boone separated from the group and stalked into a room and slammed the door behind him. Ronnie ignored it like it was nothing out of the ordinary and went about showing the newcomers around.

* * *

Maxsons room was very, very quiet and they all sat around trying to catch any sound coming from the inside. The day slipped away from them.

MacCready, Ronnie and Zac ferreted around for lunch for them all and then later, dinner as well. Cade and the Eyebot, Ed-E, played a game of chess or three, while Arcade offered unsolicited and frankly, unwanted advice to both of them while reading nearby. Courier and Dekker seemed to be having a competition to see who could consume their respective body weights in bourbon. MacCready alternated between sleeping and cleaning his gun. Ronnie and Zac talked about things that she had punched with her powerfist and told increasingly outlandish stories to each other. Boone never emerged from his room.

They were about ready to sack out when the door finally opened and Maxson and Max stepped out into the foyer together. They looked over at everyone waiting patiently for them to conclude their family business and their faces held an almost identical look of grim resolve.

"Gentlemen." Elder Maxson began, nodding at Ronnie with a small smile, "and Veronica. Tomorrow Max and I will travel to the Hidden Valley Bunker and from there we're going to California to face the Brotherhood council. I am claiming High Eldership of the Brotherhood of Steel and Max will be relinquishing all rights…"

"…Because, fuck Elder McNamara." Max interjected.

"… and interest in the position." Maxson continued, his smile growing at the vehemence in Maxs voice, "… probably with some harsh language and unflattering descriptions of our organisation."

Max grinned. "I want to get some of my things from the illustrious busybody Nolan McNamara and then I will stand by my greatgreatgreatgreat… great? Grandnephew… half nephew? I don't know… and support his petition." She put her hand on Maxsons shoulder, "and I pledge the Commonwealth Minutemens support and partnership in rebuilding the Brotherhood and the former United States… In the last few hours, Arthur and I may have just sorted out the whole worlds problems, we're aiming big."

"Right now though." Maxson said, "I'm hungry."

He walked away towards the kitchen area and Max looked at everyone else. "And I'm having a shower." She turned to leave and looked back at everyone over her shoulder. "Thanks everyone… you have no idea what all of your help so far has meant to me… and Arthur. I just have to try figure out how we're going to repay you all."

"I was going to get Nash to send you out a Mojave Express invoice." Courier muttered. "I'm sure House will bill you for the room too."

"Cool." She said as she left.

Courier looked over at Dekker as soon as she was sequestered in the main bathroom

"How will McNamara take this?" He asked.

"Not well." Dekker frowned.

* * *

Boone had heard the dull murmur of voices in the next room as Max and Maxson had talked all day. He had heard the moment they had left the room, well into the evening.

He'd packed away his rifle, now clean and oiled and ready for the next hail of bullets and had lain his head down on his pillow, in his own bed, for the first time in months. He'd listened as the suite settled in for the night. He didn't know what Max and Maxson had talked about, but he knew that the group would be heading out in the morning, this wasn't over yet.

It was well after Boone hit the hay that he heard his door open and close. He heard shuffling in his darkened room, things being put away quietly, so as not to wake him. He felt the mattress dip on the other side of his bed as she slid beneath his sheets. Boone closed his eyes tight and let the scent of her wash over him. She was right there next to him… if he reached out his hand he could run his fingertips over her silky skin.

She settled in beside him in the dark.

"I love you." He whispered gruffly, the words out his mouth before he could stop them. He thought his voice sounded dusty from disuse. He'd have to work on that and get better at speaking.

The silence that followed his quiet, but very certain declaration was as deafening as the roar of a radiation storm in the Divide. Boone found himself straining his ears into the darkened room. He could hear the Courier snoring in his room down the hall. He could hear Ronnie and Zac talking in the kitchen, punctuated by barks of laughter as the two of them forged a friendship. He could hear Ed-E beeping though his diagnostics. What he didn't hear, was a response of any kind from Max. He didn't even think she was breathing. If he hadn't heard her come into the room and slip into the sheets next to him, if he couldn't feel the heat coming from her right now as she lay like a stone next to him. He could be fooled into thinking that she wasn't there at all.

It seemed an eternity, but she eventually spoke.

"Craig…" Her voice was controlled and a little louder than he was expecting in the darkness. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Boone frowned into the darkness. What did that mean?

He heard her sigh and the mattress beneath him moved as she rolled over. The lamp on the bedside flared to life and he sat up blinking into the sudden light.

Her majestic green eyes regarded him sadly and he hoped he didn't look as vulnerable as he felt.

"Look, tomorrow we're going to Hidden Valley and I'm going to get something from Elder McNamara." She pulled her eyes away from him and looked down at the blanket that covered her. She plucked at it and smoothed out the wrinkles, it was a twitchy movement, like suppressed nerves were nipping at her surface. "I'm not getting it for me. I want you to see it. And once you do, I'm going to bet that you're going to rethink what you may feel about me."

He finally got it. Her story, she hadn't told it yet… she didn't think he'd like it. She thought that her past was a deal breaker. What the …? Was she insane?

He turned his body to face her properly, the sheets and blankets pooling around his narrow hips.

"I know you were an assassin in your old life." He murmured. "I get that you've killed dozens of people…"

Max laughed sharply. There was no humour in it, only bitterness and self depreciation.

"Right…. Dozens…" A dark shadow passed before her eyes and she lay her head back onto her pillow. She reached out her hand and flicked off the lamp again, drowning the room in darkness, all the more dark for the bright light that had just fled. Boone heard a murky chuckle from Maxs side of the bed.

"Craig, go to sleep."


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter 64 – Hidden Valley**

Boone woke to a mouthful of sweet smelling hair and the sultry heat and weight of a firm, curvy body pressed against him. Her flawless cheek rested in the very centre of his chest, sending warm puffs of her breath ghosting over his skin. Her rounded arms and long legs akimbo, sprawled across him and his bed. The sheets were scrunched up in a messy tumble around their feet baring their naked flesh to the room.

He moved his hand which rested softly on her shoulder blade, absently holding her to him and pushed her rich, earthy hair from his face, blowing at the stray strands that clung to his lips and returned his hand back to her silken skin as he thought.

He stared at the ceiling, tracing the familiar cracks and patterns of fallout staining it with his cool, mossy eyes. He was at peace. He was content.

Whatever she was going to give him to read, he thought drowsily, running his calloused thumb back and forth over her shoulder, whatever it was about her past that she was worried about scaring him off with… that shit didn't matter. He didn't care if she ate babies for breakfast.

He was all hers.

* * *

The ranks of the group had swelled.

Max, Maxson, Boone, Courier, MacCready, Hobson and Cade were now joined by the Couriers friends and another, very imposing, Brotherhood Elder… and an Eyebot…

Byron Dekker watched Max saunter into the kitchen of the Couriers suite, the quiet sniper Boone was right behind her. She walked passed Zac Hobson, the man that people called the Lone Wanderer and smacked him on the back of the head as she made her way to the coffee pot. Boone did the same, smirking at the indignant cries from the blonde as he smoothed out his hair and grumbled at his unfair treatment. MacCready flopped down into a chair next to Hobson and the two immediately began to bicker like brothers. Cade and the new doctor… Gannon?... came in next, the two were talking medicine, on the surface at least. The Brotherhood Proctor was making eyes at the tall, handsome doctor, weather he was aware of it or not. Courier slouched into the room, grunting what could have been a greeting, could have also been something else, but everyone acknowledged it as a greeting.

Elder Maxson and Scribe Santangelo came in last with Ed-E floating along behind them, chirping merrily. Maxson seemed in good spirits.

It was a very domestic kind of scene, all of them getting breakfast in a well appointed kitchen and chatting animatedly about nothing in particular. It was as if they were not about to turn the Brotherhood of Steel on its ear.

The five travellers from the East Coast and their two guides seemed to have forged a tight knit bond while they had journeyed together. Dekker had observed some real affection between the seven of them, much more so than when they were in the Midwest. Especially the General and Boone, Dekker thought with an inward sigh, watching Boone escort Max to the table with his hand smoothing across the small of her back. If the mans face ever showed any emotion, it would surely be adoration at this moment. Ah well, plenty of other fish in the sea, Dekker thought to himself wistfully.

And the two others, the Couriers friends, Gannon and Ronnie, seemed to slot in as if they had always been there. Dekker felt a little out of place, though they didn't make him seem so. He was quite at his ease at the head of the table.

Today though… what was going to happen today?

Dekker let his eyes wander to the face of the young Brotherhood of Steel Elder. Was he really what the Brotherhood needed? Dekker had all but pledged the support of the Mid West to the General, though she was furious and confused at the time. His own Sentinel was very taken with Max, and a massive portion of his people, those that had actually met her and those that had heard of her since. Dekker was as well, if he were to tell the truth. Over course of the their relaxed dinner all of those months ago when they had discussed the goings on in the Commonwealth, her experiences in the pre war, her tongue loosened by her low tolerance for alcohol, he had found an intelligent and engaging woman who seemed to inspire loyalty from almost everyone she met… she even had the young elder following her around like a puppy, though that relationship would obviously evolve into something else now.

Dekkers eyes flicked over to the General. She didn't _want_ it, she had riled against it. She didn't like the Brotherhood… _But_ _…_ if it meant saving lives and stopping a war before it started, Dekker believed that she _would_ take the role of High Elder… or…

Dekkers muddy brown eyes then moved to the man at her side and disregarded him. The quiet sniper.

And then he looked back towards Arthur Maxson. Max and Maxson had a history… the genealogy was far enough apart to be a non issue due to her centuries in stasis and Maxsons generations of diluted Maxson blood, as Proctor Cade had pointed out. Maxson would get everything he wanted and the Brotherhood would get what it needed, Strength, Unity and Leadership.

Hell, in the old days cousins would marry…

Dekker was deep in thought, his food ignored and it did not escape the notice of a couple of people at the table. Courier watched as Dekkers eyes moved about the table, from Maxson, to Max, to Boone and then back to Maxson. He exchanged a long look with Zac who had also noticed Dekkers silent contemplation and they both all but heard the cogs in his head turning. A mute conversation was going on between the courier and the wanderer. Zac looked pointedly at Dekker. Flicked his eyes at Max and Maxson and looked back at the Courier with a raised eyebrow. Courier frowned, glanced at Boone and Max and then sent Zac a negligible shake of his head… there was no way.

Zac pursed his lips. But Max _would,_ wouldn't she? She had some deeply ingrained need to protect people… Uniting the two would eliminate the Brotherhoods sudden need to tear itself apart.

Courier grimaced. Max didn't love Maxson. Full stop. She wouldn't sacrifice so much of herself for an organisation she was not even that keen on, and why the hell should she? While she did have relationships with individual members, she didn't agree with many of their ideals. Most of them, in fact. She had already committed to the Minutemen. She was forging a relationship with Boone. There were too many factors against it.

"I'm not saying it's a forgone conclusion, I'm just saying that it's an option." Zac said out loud, causing the table to all turn to him in question at his outburst.

Courier sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Nope… it's not." He said roughly. "And at the end of the day, it ain't yours nor anyone elses decision. And, if everyone else becomes unruly over it all, I _will_ step in."

"You can stop a civil war?" Zac asked, to a flurry of raised eyebrows around the table.

"Yeah… I can." Courier replied simply, his expression dead serious.

Everyone looked between Courier Six and the Lone Wanderer. The conversation in the room had gone from 'pass the salt' to this, seemingly out of nowhere.

Zac grinned and nodded his head. "Let's just see, no need to get all uppity yet."

Courier nodded as well and looked back down at his breakfast.

Zac chuckled to himself. " _Mailman_ , my nuts." He muttered in amusement.

Max eyed the two men suspiciously.

* * *

It was usual for the microclimate of the Hidden Valley to drum up small isolated sand storms that could scour the skin from ones body. Today was no exception. Only a few knew it was not natural. The bunkers defences were simply doing their job scrambling the exact position of the bunker to satellites and guidance systems that had not worked in centuries.

As the Brotherhood vertibird set down on the flat before a chain link fence leading into the valley, a whirlwind of sand whipped around in the air beyond. Max was reminded of the delineation between continuously raging rad storms of the glowing sea and the rest of the Commonwealth. She waited while the rest of the group assembled behind her as she considered the shifting haze before her. She had no idea what she was going to say to Elder McNamara beyond 'gimme my private information and get the fuck out of my life… oh, and shove your job offer, dickhead'. She'd try to be a little more diplomatic, of course.

She adjusted her sunglasses and pulled a dun coloured scarf over her mouth and nose.

The Courier adjusted his hat, bringing it low over his sunglasses but made no other concession for the valleys conditions as he patted Maxs shoulder and moved passed her, leading the way into the vortex of sand beyond the fence.

He walked confidently through the blinding and howling mass, identifying indistinct mounds of dirt to find his way. He drew his sequoia casually from his hip as he strode forwards, causing the others to reach for their side arms as well though, they could not see more than a few feet in front of themselves.

Maxs keen eyes picked up the skittering movements of a dozen near invisible scorpions in the hazy distance, each the size of a large dog. They blended almost seamlessly in with the swirling sand and scuttled low to the ground, their stingers scrapping the soil, streamlining their passage but ready to spring up and strike when nearer to their prey. The group fired off a flurry of rounds, the scorpions falling and each skidded to a stop to be covered by sand almost immediately. Veronica shouted something to the two physicians of the group that Max couldn't hear and the three broke off from the group while the Courier continued further into the din.

He led them around a rise and into a sheltered hollow where they found a solid concrete wall which housed a stout reinforced metal door in its centre. Courier pulled on the levers and released the seals, opening it wide and motioning everyone to enter. The group descended one at a time into the underground bunker and stood at the bottom of the stairwell, listening to the Courier curse as he battled the tempest outside to shut the door behind him.

Max peeled away from them and proceeded deeper into the bunker, traversing the open gallery and stopping in front of the next locked metal door. There was a small intercom system blinking to one side and she leaned over to press the little call button and it issued a crackling buzz.

"Identify yourself." The intercom barked rudely a moment later, shattering the quiet and echoing around the cavernous room.

Max smirked and depressed the com button. "Maxine Everton to see Nolan McNamara… I have an appointment." She said pleasantly in a singsong manner.

There was no reply… the silence was deafening.

Max pressed the button again. "Oh, you can also tell him I'm not alone. Arthur Maxson, Byron Dekker and Courier Six are here, as well as a few others."

Still nothing.

She pressed the button once again, more forcefully. "Hey, I'm aging out here…" She snapped irritably.

They were certainly taking their sweet time to respond and Max was not the most patient woman, nor was she particularly polite when irritated. She ground her finger into the call button and held it there, listening to the extended bout of buzzing, content to stand there with her finger on the buzzer in perpetuity if needs be.

The door eventually made a hollow metallic clanging as the interior locks shifted and Max grinned releasing the button and stepping back. She flicked open the tab on her sidearm holster and lay her hand casually over the grip of her pistol, just in case they got all aggravated at her annoying equivalent to door knocking.

She felt the towering presence of Elder Dekker at her back, flanked by Maxson, MacCready, Zac and Boone. It was like being backed up against a wall of awesome. Courier stepped up to her side, she noted that the tab on his holster was also loose and he had a good working relationship with these people, which made her feel better about her cautious stance.

The metal door eased open slowly with a teeth clenching, grinding screech and the intimidating group were faced with a solitary Brotherhood Paladin encased in power armour. He was lacking his helmet and his head was a rampant thicket of dark hair, lightly streaked with grey. He was forty-ish, though his sun roughened skin made him appear older and his dark eyes, shifting between the two people before him, reflected a wariness that was born of both isolation and familiarity. His rifle was drawn and levelled at no one in particular. He certainly wasn't going to aim it at the Courier and he was even less likely to aim at the Maxson Messiah.

Max drew breath to speak, but was interrupted when the Cade, Gannon and Santangelo barrelled past her.

"Hey Ramos." Ronnie chirped brightly. "Oh my gosh, like, we just killed a whole heap of scorpions outside. Got some sweet poison glands. I see you got your armour fixed… still no helmet? I'll keep an eye out for one." Ronnie shoved an oozy backpack at the Paladin, who juggled his rifle in an attempt to hold it, and she started rifling through her armour, still talking enthusiastically. "I also got Lorenzo a new crescent wrench, don't read too much into that. He just said he needed one. Oh, have you met everyone? We should go inside and make introductions, be rude to linger in the doorway…"

Ronnie hustled herself through the door and proceeded down the stairs still talking, though this time it seemed to be to no one. Gannon and Cade followed, Gannon was sporting a droll smirk as he trooped passed the Paladin and Cade looked a little apologetic, relieving the Paladin of the sopping backpack as he went. Courier touched the front of his hat in greeting and followed the trio without a word, as Max stood back and waited for the others to proceed, making sure everyone was in before turning back to the lone Paladin.

"Things might just be about to get weird." She said, clapping him on the shoulder with a resonating clang as she wandered into the bunker and onto the descending stairs.

"Yes ma'am" The Paladin agreed softly as he closed the heavy door behind them. "I believe they are."


	65. Chapter 65

**AN: It has been a long hiatus for which you have my profuse apologies. I am back, however, and completely ready to go. I'd like to take just a moment to thank all of you who PM'd and commented, your words meant a lot. I still have no ending in mind, but fuck it, I'll wing it…**

 **Chapter 65 – Elder Nolan McNamara: The Man, The Myth**

Ronnie pulled up short at the bottom of the stairs and looked around at the sea of faces that greeted her and her companions into the bunker. It seemed that every occupant of the bunker from lowly initiate to the head paladin himself had squeezed into the vestibule and the corridors leading off of it to greet the group. Greet was maybe not the right word… confront? Threaten? They all had their weapons drawn so Ronnie was quite certain that 'greet' was not the right word.

She stumbled a little as Arcade ran into her back, not ready for her abrupt stop, but righted herself quickly and readied herself for a fight. She was torn… Courier Six was her friend, but the inhabitants of the Hidden Valley Bunker were her family. Was she about to fight her family? What was going on?

"Ummmm…. Hi?" She said cautiously to the gathered crowd, she was suddenly very conscious of the heavy, power fist humming at her wrist.

She stepped guardedly into the midst of _her_ people, driven by the group descending the narrow stairway from the surface. They milled somewhat uncertainly in the close quarters of the vestibule. The Couriers face was shuttered, his glasses shading his eyes as they shifted around the area vigilantly. They'd been corralled.

Max strolled down the stairs at the rear of the group, her hand still resting casually on the pistol at her hip, very aware of the power armoured Paladin at her back, following her down the stairs from the entranceway. Her friends were armed now as well, each of them had a weapon in their hands, each drawing as the bunkers inhabitants came into view. Zac had two weapons, for some reason, he had his thirst zapper in his hand as well as his laser pistol. Maybe he didn't know why either, Max doubted it, Zac was quite thorough and very quick to access hidden dangers. Max took in the tense scene below as she slowly stepped down from the last stair… faces, ranks, armour, weapons, layout, positions… and then she saw him. She had no doubt in her mind who _he_ was.

Elder Nolan McNamara.

He was tall, slim and encased in flowing Elder Robes, which Max found particularly pretentious. His slate grey eyes were all encompassing, he had taken in the threats standing in his vestibule and watched them each warily while turning his body to behold the General as she made her way down the stairs. He took particular note of the Courier and Zac, watched Dekker and Maxson but disregarded the others. So, he was not as smart as he thought he was. His eyes met Maxs and they widened, he ran his hand raggedly through his neat platinum blond hair as he regarded her... he was nervous. And that was good.

For all his eagerness to place her in the hot seat, she was still an unknown factor to him. He had studied her, read every report. She was dangerous on paper and he thought it an acceptable risk. In real life she was different, much more visceral. Her emerald eyes were sharp and shrewd, her lips were quirked in an odd little one sided smile, she seemed to regard his chapter with amusement and mild contempt. When she met his gaze he felt his testicles shrivel just a little. She was a little scary and he would have to be very careful. He cleared his throat judiciously, capturing the guarded attention of the gathered forces, though it was more to regain his voice after seeing the new High Elder as she descended into his bunker.

"Mojave Chapter… stand down." He ordered, his voice mildly chiding, "that's no way to greet our guests." As if he hadn't given the order for his people to meet the group with weapons hot. His eyes alighted on Max once more. "General Maxson, you honour us all with your presence in Hidden Valley."

"Everton…" She corrected him sharply, pausing at the bottom of the stairs and slipping into the folds of her group. "as you well know, Elder."

She walked through the assemblage slowly, the people melting from out of her way as she eased between them, the channel stopping in front of the Elder. She glared warningly at a large Paladin in full power armour who hovered at the Elders elbow as he stepped forwards to potentially block her. She felt the barrel of a rifle come to rest on her shoulder, the business end pointing threateningly at the Paladin. She glanced over her shoulder and was a little surprised to see the determined face of one, RJ MacCready scowling down the barrel at the towering paladin. He was the ranking Minuteman with her after all, so she guessed that she shouldn't be surprised that he would seek to defend her.

She turned her attention back to the Elder and smirked at him.

"Well, I'm here… what do you want?" She asked flippantly, her tone arrogant and dripping with dislike.

McNamara ignored the hostility in her tone and smiled warmly at her. "Competent leadership, General." He said "… as you may have discerned from my invitation."

He waved the Paladin back, the Head Paladin, if Max wasn't mistaken. The man scowled at RJ, but stepped back behind his Elder, the barrel of the rifle followed him as he reluctantly retreated.

"In that case," Max smiled. "You'll be delighted to find I have bought Elder Arthur Maxson with me from the Capitol and Commonwealth Chapters. He would be very well suited to take the role of High Elder as is his right by blood, his right by trial and by the great personal sacrifices he's endured in the grooming and preparation for the position."

"Perhaps, General, you would like to adjourn to my office to discuss my particular interests" Nolan said softly, his eyes finally sliding over the rest of the assemblage, glancing over Dekker as if he weren't there. His eyes briefly meeting those of a glowery Maxson and he looked away again in distaste. His dark, cloudy gaze fell back on Max again and he offered a brief smile and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I know a great many things about you and if we continue here, many of them might come to light that you would rather did not."

He stepped back from her and held out his arm, leading the way down the corridor that would lead them deeper into the bowels of the Brotherhood bunker. Maxs group had stood back letting her take the lead, but now she looked to the Courier. He knew these people. His brow was furrowed but when her eyes sought his in question, he shrugged briefly. She let her eyes move to Maxson, who only stopped scowling at the Mojave Elder as he met her gaze and made to step forwards.

"No, General…" McNamara said quickly, seeing his brother Elder on the move.

Maxs head whipped back to him and Nolan almost flinched back from her glare.

"I… I would speak with you alone… if I may… for now." His tone dropping from what could be considered sharp to something more supplicating. He couldn't make his move yet… he needed her alone, where her companions… protective companions, he thought with a glance at a tense looking Boone… were unable to reach her.

Her eyes held his for a beat longer than was comfortable and he hoped she could not somehow read his mind and she turned back to Maxson, silently saying she would not be long and then it would be over. She could tell Arthur was dying to say something… probably scathing and inappropriate for a man that had a host of semi hostile soldiers carrying energy weapons and surrounding him. To his credit, he held his tongue and simply nodded. He was content to remain with the others… for now. He was closer to answers and his goal now than he had been on his first visit here, after all.

Max turned back to McNamara and raised an eyebrow to indicate he should lead the way. She looked back once, to Boone, whom she noted had the Couriers restraining hand on his arm as he meant to follow as well and at MacCready, who was in the process of shouldering his rifle again, his blue eyes cold and still fixed on the large Head Paladin. She smirked at him and shook her head as she turned away again. There was no way he was going to fire his rifle in the enclosed space of the vestibule, centimetres from her ear... he would have deafened them all. She chuckled to herself as she walked away. Actually, he probably didn't think of that.

The Mojave Brotherhood who had crowded the corridor made way for their Elder and his guest, all eyes looked to Max as she passed. She met their stares boldly, almost sneering at them for their presumptions, her startling green eyes admonishing them, many lowered their gazes in her wake.

The group watched her leave, the Couriers eyes searching the people around him as he eased his detaining hold on Boones shoulder… people he was familiar with, people he had known for a long time, now they held a kind of menace. He turned to Ronnie questioningly. She looked troubled as well and gave a grave looking kind of shrug in response to his silent query as to what was afoot in the Hidden Valley Bunker. That can't have been good, something was definitely afoot. Courier Six kept his reflexes keen and the tab on his holster open, though he was unwilling to engage these people.

Max followed the Mojave Elder into his office, waiting just inside of it, off to one side as he shut the door discretely and indicated for her to sit with a polite inclination of his head. Max sat in the chair indicated and reclined into the backrest with exaggerated nonchalance, watching the Elder as he walked around his desk and sat, adjusting his voluminous robes as he did so. His movements were fluid and for all of the appearance of scholarship, she noted he was obviously no stranger to a fight.

"Soooo…" Max drawled, as the Elder steepled his fingers before him and regarded her from across his desk. "Now that you've got me here, what are you going to do with me?"

"General Maxson…" He began only to be cut of harshly.

"Everton, Elder." Max snapped. "It's not a difficult name to remember."

"General Everton… Maxine." McNamara corrected himself, his tone not as genuine as he intended, as Max quirked an eyebrow at the use of her first name.

He sat forwards, entwining his fingers together before him on his desktop, leaning an elbow over an innocuous looking manila folder which lay there. "What I am going to do with you is exactly what I planned to do when I sent my missive to you; I am taking you to Lost Hills and presenting you to the Elder council where you will be confirmed as the new High Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel and you will then lead us into a grand and prosperous future."

Max blinked at him in stunned consternation for a moment at his temerity. "How? How exactly are you going to do that?"

"I believe I can encourage you to do as I require." He said almost dismissively.

Max snorted lightly. "Why do you think you can make me become the High Elder against my will? What gives you the audacity to imagine you can control me in any way, shape or form?" She cocked her head to one side and regarded McNamara coldly, warily. He was up to something, he was way too confidant and Max was suddenly on her guard.

"Because, my dear general… Maxine, I know you better than you know yourself, I know all of the things that even you don't know. _All_ of them." He smirked confidently back at her. Now was the time to see if all of his research was worth it.

He calmly took to his feet and stepped around his desk, smoothing out his robes as he moved, stopping before her, noting her hand wandering towards the pistol at her hip. He keenly met her eyes and took a deep cleansing breath.

Then he spoke the words the Max could never remember, a simple phrase that she hadn't heard in more than two hundred years, the phrase that was always her downfall.

"Captain Maxine Lillian Hall, Prompt: Navarro. Activate."

The words were spoken with exaggerated care… and Max knew no more.

He resisted the urge to whoop in victory as he watched with a deep satisfaction as her consciousness emptied from her eyes, the slightly guarded but contemptuous look draining away replaced by an impassive hardness. The soldier before him stood to, snapping to attention, shoulders rigid, spine straight, chin raised. All detached discipline and cold control. His control. It had worked.

Years ago, Max was taken from the field and forcibly recruited into a secret Black Ops group. They had seen what she had done on the battlefield at Anchorage, how she had mown down whole regiments of enemy troops with ferocious and calculated efficiency and they had sought to harness her abilities. They never could. What they had seen from her helmet cam was not the full story, it had not shown her, only her actions. No matter what training they applied to her, no matter what tortures, they could never duplicate the effects of her disorder. The old world, though, was very resourceful, they could find work arounds to almost any situation. They had found a way to programme her, to simulate her disassociated state. Like a machine.

McNamara stepped back from his new acquisition and looked her over slowly. The old world created the finest wares to be sure and conditioned them superbly. She was a type of biological and psychological technology and the Brotherhood coveted technology, hoarded it, adapted it for their needs and use. He would take this corrupted piece of organic technology from a failed civilization and turn it into something pure again. For the betterment of all, for the greater good.

He turned from Max and lifted the thin, manila folder from his desk top, flipping through it to a page marked with a paperclip as Max stood unemotionally by. He would not say 'meekly' as he was very aware, through exhaustive study, that she was now at her most dangerous and she was merely awaiting her orders. Orders only he could give.

"Captain Hall…" he said absently as he skimmed the page, before pitching his voice with firm authority. "Captain Hall, you will accompany Elder McNamara to the Brotherhood of Steel council in Lost Hills, where you will accept the position of High Elder. You will receive additional orders upon arrival in California and from now on you will answer to the name 'General Maxson'."

McNamara thought for a moment, his stormy eyes flicking over the impassive general.

"In addition, you will protect Elder McNamara… from all threats." He ordered. No reason not to utilise her skills for the duration of the journey to California, he thought. Her team might try and stop them and the Courier did have a way of… accomplishing all he set out to do, though how he did so was a mystery, wrapped in an enigma at times.

"Do you understand your orders, soldier?" McNamara barked at his suddenly subordinate general.

"Yes, Sir." Max spoke decisively, if with an empty type of timbre in her voice.

"Excellent, Soldier." He near purred at her. "We depart immediately, follow your superior."

He turned from her, stalking back around his desk, collecting his laser pistol, tucking the folder into his robes and depressing the button to open his personal escape hatch. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder to confirm that his prize was dutifully following, before slipping into the cool, dark passageway that would eventually lead to the surface. He had a repurposed, former NCR vertibird waiting in Sloane for just this occasion.

California and the whole of the Brotherhood of Steel awaited his arrival with baited breath.

 **AN: I'm super out of practise and not that great a writer to begin with, so please forgive any crapness. This isn't a beg for reassurance, just a true fact.**


	66. Chapter 66

**Chapter 66 – Left Behind**

Courier Six tapped his middle finger against his thigh in irritation, the cadence drumming out his impatience. What the hell was taking so long?

They'd been here for an age. Head Paladin Hardin had long since dispersed the occupants of Hidden Valley Bunker, sending them back into the depths and back to their mundane duties, leaving the group in his company in the vestibule with only Paladin Ramos loitering in an antechamber, which served as the bunkers security office. The Courier had sat himself down on the floor, leaning his broad back against the wall and had pulled his hat down low over his eyes, feigning sleep and he'd settled in for the wait. He honestly hadn't thought 'the wait' would be that long. Max was pretty forthright in her address and he had been pretty sure that she'd get what she wanted quickly.

Wrong! It had been a _millennia_ and Elder McNamara and General Everton had not shown a sign of emerging from his office at any time in the near future. The Courier hated waiting. Couriers did not wait.

From behind the cover of his sunglasses and in the shadow cast by the brim of his hat, he glared at each of his companions in turn as they passed the interminable time.

Maxson and Dekker were talking quietly and seriously across from him, both slumped against wall as he was. No one had thought to provide any of the guests, not even the Brotherhood Elders, with chairs. MacCready and Zac sat nearby, they had resumed a long fought battle of thumb wars that had endured across the continent. Ronnie sat apart from everyone, glaring down the corridor leading to the bunker proper. She had been told to stay here, even though the bunker was her home and she wasn't happy about it. The two doctors seemed to be flirting with each other. The Courier rolled his eyes, this trip seemed to have turned into a big 'ole love fest.

Boone paced. He stopped every now and then to glare, as Ronnie was, in the direction of McNamaras office and then he would resume pacing, his face set like a thundercloud. It was adding to the Couriers irritation but he didn't tell him to stop.

He glanced up at Ed-E who hovered directly over his head, beeping absently and sending warm jets of air down onto the Couriers head as his stabilisers fired.

Courier leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes for a second, trying to ignore Boones clomping footfalls and the murmur of quiet conversation, before he opened his dark eyes and heaved his way to his feet. His hand went to the Sequoia at his hip as Head Paladin Hardin raised his rifle at the abrupt movement. Hardin allowed the rifle to drop back to his side, on edge but keeping the uneasy peace.

"I've had about enough now, Edgar." Courier warned the power armour encased Paladin. "What's going on here? I've been plenty patient and now I want to know why we're being treated like strangers… like hostiles. Ronnie lives here for fucks sake."

The rest of the group had taken this as the signal to rise to their feet also.

"Journeyman Scribe Santangelo is no longer a resident of Hidden Valley Bunker." Hardin replied dispassionately.

"Since when?" Ronnie squawked indignantly.

"Since you took up with outsiders." Hardin replied, sneering at the Courier meaningfully.

"I've been taking up with outsiders for almost a decade." Ronnie growled. "That's what the 'Journeyman' part of my rank means."

Hardin sniffed dismissively, his eyes still on the Courier.

"I asked a question, Edgar… Still waiting on that answer." The Courier, stepped towards the Head Paladin noting the twitch in Hardins weapon arm as he fought to keep it pointed at the ground.

"The Elders business with the General is his own concern." Hardin replied, his eye flicking cagily in the direction of the Elders office. "The likes of _you_ , need not worry yourselves over it. You will wait and then you will leave. Or you can leave now."

"I ain't waiting anymore and I ain't leaving one of mine behind. We'll just retrieve our General and remove ourselves from your little hole in the ground, before we make ourselves even more unwelcome than we already are." The Courier grunted malignantly back at the Head Paladin.

Ed-E's cautious sounding beeps interrupted the brewing verbal battle and all eyes turned to regard the little hovering eyebot in perplexity. Boone suddenly shoved his way towards the robot, roughly shunting Gannon face first into the wall in his passage.

"What do you mean 'she's not here'?" Boone demanded of the robot, "Where is she?"

Ed-E beeped and chirped again. To the East coasters and Elder Dekker the sounds meant nothing, but whatever was being relayed by the little eyebot sent Boone hurtling down the corridor towards the Elders office.

"What's going on?" MacCready asked uneasily, his eyes on the corridor leading into the interior of the bunker in Boone wake.

"Max and McNamara ain't in the Bunker." Courier supplied staring after Boone as well. "Ed says there're no lifesigns in his office."

He started after Boone but was impeded as Hardin stepped heavily into the Couriers path and Paladin Ramos came into the vestibule with his energy rifle drawn and running hot only to find himself face to face with Ronnie and Zac, her power fist humming and his laser pistol raised and ready.

"I suggest, Edgar, you step out of my way." Courier uttered darkly, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Back away, wastelander." Hardin spat insultingly, a sneer painted on his face "I am the authority in Hidden…"

He was cut off by the weight of the Couriers palms slamming into his chest plate. He rocked back, stumbling.

How many men could stagger a man in full T-45 power armour… with his bare hands… with a simple shove?

Hardin found himself backed against the wall of the vestibule his energy rifle still skittering hollowly across the floor. The Courier was eye to eye with him, his large fist curled around the neck of the suits chest piece and the barrel of his sequoia suddenly pressed to the side of the Head Paladins skull.

"Cast your mind back, Edgar" The Courier growled lowly. "and think real hard before you speak to me like that again."

Hardin, to his credit, tried hard to keep his face impassive, but his eyes were wide and rolling wildly trying to avoid the piercing gaze of Courier Six.

"You did this." He gasped desperately. "If you had helped me then, we wouldn't be here now. None of this would have happened."

"None of what?"

"You left a scholar in charge of soldiers," Hardin croaked, trying in vain to twist his head away from the barrel of the Couriers sidearm, "and then you abandoned us all to our own demise. I would never have done this… I would never have led us here. If you had just suppor…"

Courier shoved Hardin hard against the wall, causing his neck to lash backwards and forwards like a whip. "What?" Courier spat impatiently "What's 'this'? What has he done?"

"He found himself a puppet in your general, they've gone to Lost Hills." Hardin weezed

"Max wouldn't just leave, you've done something to her." MacCready interjected from behind the Courier, all but ignoring Dekkers enormous restraining hand on his shoulder and straining towards the Head Paladin, violence in his crisp blue eyes.

"I've done nothing." Hardin said urgently, clutching at the Couriers wrist, "McNamara…"

"What. Did. He. Do?" Courier snarled, making each word clipped and precise.

"Taggart…" Hardin paused as he quailed under the Couriers furious glare and he began again. "McNamara, Nolan, found a code or something in one of the Genarals files. Taggart knows more than me, they talked about it in private."

Hardin was to endure the Couriers dark glower for moment longer before he was unceremoniously released. The boots of his power armour crashing onto the floor. The Courier had lifted him clean into the air… with one arm.

"Ronnie." He barked. "Find Taggart, bring him here. Now."

Veronica immediately scampered away down the corridor into the bowels of the bunker, passing Boone on his way back to the vestibule.

The rest of them waited. The Courier had locked his eyes with Hardin, boring a hole right through him. Ramos stood awkwardly by the door to his office, his energy rifle swinging negligently from Zacs hand.

Boone was shaking with fury, uncertain of what he should be doing and glaring at Hardin from behind his aviators, his mossy green eyes seeming to ignite with malice.

"If anything happens to her…" He growled menacingly.

"Nothings gonna happen to her, Boone. " Courier grated, not breaking eye contact with the Head Paladin. "Max can take care of herself."

They waited a few minutes more in tense silence, the Courier and Hardin staring daggers at each other. Hardin was more in control of his features now that he wasn't dangling from the Couriers fist. Eventually, they all turned as one towards the corridor at the sound of clunky, hollow footsteps. Ronnie came stomping into the vestibule dragging a beautiful blond woman in scribe robes behind her. The woman was obviously not a willing companion as Ronnie gave her a shove forwards, propelling her unsteadily into their midst.

"Couldn't find Lars." Ronnie reported. "Found old Lazy-eye though."

The Scribe straightened her dull scarlet robes and stiffened her spine, glaring at Ronnie with undisguised dislike. The Courier recognised her. She was the _very_ young initiate that Lars Taggart had taken a particular interest in all those years ago.

"Watkins." Courier grunted in greeting.

"Taggart," She corrected smartly. "Taggart now."

The Courier raised an eyebrow in query of the change. Taggart was a dirty old sod, but he seemed to have caught her... and fair play to him.

"Taggart," Courier grimaced in acknowledgement. "Your Elder has taken our General… you're gonna tell me how and why."

Melissa Taggart drew in breath to answer when they were interrupted by another scribe rushing into the room, dishevelled and out of breath.

"What's the meaning of this?" The older man gasped. "Melissa, are you alright?"

Lars Taggart. The Head Scribe of the Hidden Valley Bunker and the timeworn husband of the young woman in front of the Courier. He was a tall, slim man. He was as bald as a Deathclaw egg and the Courier always thought he had shifty eyes. He had quite a few more wrinkles around those eyes now, but that could just be from all of the smiling at landing such a young, pretty wife.

Courier glanced at Ronnie. "How hard did you look for him?" He growled at his friend.

Ronnie shrugged. He recalled that she didn't like the younger Taggart woman.

"They want to know what Elder McNamara is up to with General Maxson." Melissa supplied.

Taggart looked over his wife carefully for signs of harassment and at finding none he turned to the Courier and began assessing the situation. His eyes darting from the Couriers cantankerous façade to the two angry and imposing Elders standing nearby. The two snipers; one looking irate, the other looking absolutely homicidal. The keen-eyed man accosting Paladin Ramos. Scribe Santangelo looking ready to accost his wife… again. The rugged Brotherhood Proctor that looked ready to use the laser pistol in his hand and Arcade Gannon… leaning negligently against the wall, picking his teeth with his little fingernail.

He nodded his head in acceptance. He wasn't an imbecile.

"Follow me." He beckoned and offered his wife his elbow, which she slipped her hand into. They led the way into Hidden Valley Bunker, passing by the now placid Head Paladin.

The Bunker enveloped them within its steel walls as they trooped into its depths. The Courier was familiar with the vault, though he hadn't actually been inside for a long time. He'd not received his job to deliver the message to Max from here. McNamara had sent word to the Mojave Express office. He didn't come in passed the Security Office last time either, the files were bought to him there. He doubted even Ronnie had been inside for years. It hadn't changed. The Brotherhood didn't cope well with change.

Taggart and his Scribe wife led them into the bunkers repository. The group assembled around where they could, space was limited by the pillars and walls filled with terminals, blinking lights and whirring sounds.

There was a desk set up in one corner next to an impressive looking safe and it was to the safe the Taggart headed. He blocked off the view with his body as he dialed in the access code, drawing out a pile of folders, which he then passed to the Courier.

Courier flipped open the first folder reading quickly, not looking up at Taggart.

"I was under the impression, Taggart." He began slowly, his voice low, portraying his rising ire. "That when I was here a few days ago, I was given everything you had on Max."

"You were given everything on General Maxsons background." Taggart corrected. "What was needed to dissuade the young Elder here," He nodded towards Maxson "and convince the General of who she was. _This_ was Classified."

"What is that?" Boone snapped "What does it have to do with where Max is?"

"That." Taggart sneered at the sniper. "Is how the Elder recruited General Maxson."

"Why don't you give a quick laymans explanation to everyone." Courier grunted as he flipped the page. Cade sidled up to his side and craned his neck to read over Sixs shoulder.

"General Maxson was the only successful subject of the Warrior Programme. A military experiment." Taggart began to lecture the group. "She was recruited to a special taskforce after she experienced an episode in the field during the conflict in Anchorage." Taggart tucked his hands behind his back and paced back and forth in front of his desk. Mel Taggart stood meekly to the side and watched her husband with an insipid look of worship on her face.

"The General was diagnosed with a violent dissociative disorder, where ones conscious mind disconnects to protect itself in times of extreme stress and a primal default personality takes over. The experiment was to devise a way to use the disorder as a weapon. The scientists involved were unable to duplicate the conditions of the disorders performance in the field, they could not get her to disconnect. So, as a work around, they manufactured a new personality in its stead, one they could work with"

"Her natural, dissociative personality is like a feral animal. It can't reason or recognise queues, at least, that is what her psychologist supposed. It worked solely on aggression and adrenalin. The personality that they _manufactured_ is more complex. It is the perfect soldier; detached, clinical but still able to problem solve and strategise, following all orders without question, regardless of the order." Taggart continued in his lecture hall tone. "Like I said, she was the only successful trial. It seems one must already have a dissociative personality in order to manufacture another."

"They never utilised the programme outside of the trials though. It seems she was obedient and ruthless without having to engage the protocol." Melissa added, unbidden but not wanting to be left out.

Ronnie rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath.

"Indeed." Taggart looked at his wife approvingly. "Elder McNamara is in possession of General Maxsons activation code."

"So McNamara has activated Maxs Warrior Protocol and will use her to become the undercover High Elder… He's putting himself in charge by proxy." The Courier finished with a growl.

"Mmm, she will be the Brotherhoods figurehead, a Maxson of near perfect linage and Nolan will govern" Taggart hummed in agreement. "She really is quite fascinating on paper, the General. It's lucky the Enclave didn't cotton on, most of the intel we gathered was from their facilities in California."

"Are you're saying that Max is Enclave technology?" Maxson asked incredulously.

"She can't be," MacCready piped up. "She was in the vault. The Institute used Vault-tec records to find her and Shaun in there."

"No… no, General Maxson is definitely pre-war." Taggart confirmed quickly. "She _is_ the progeny of Gerard Maxson, but the technology that went into programming her belonged to the Enclave... or rather, the Old US Government as it was. Or at least it did when they had control. The Warrior Programme is what led to the Ed-E Programme, the Hellfire Programme but as a whole, it was scrapped in favour of West-TEK's bio technology… the F.E.V."

The Courier groaned suddenly. "Navarro…"

The group looked at him in confusion, Boone removing his aviators to stare at him in shock

"You can't do that to people." Boone spat in disgust. "She's not an Eyebot."

"You've seen Big MT Boone, you know what the old world were capable of." Courier took off his shades as well and rubbed his fingers over his eyeballs in weariness. "I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but I wish Ulysses was here."

"and Ulysses is?" Maxson asked. He was angry and impatient to move on. They weren't catching McNamara and Max by standing around in the repository.

"He's Courier Five. He's had some experience with Navarro and the protocols they've used with Max." Courier grimaced. "I'm not his favourite person in the wastes. I beat the crap out of him the last time I saw him some years back and he's been sulking in the divide ever since. As far as I know, anyhow."

He started to pace, hooking his thumbs in his gun belt.

"He's rifled through Big MT and Adams. In fact, I'm pretty sure he's broken into every covert research facility on the continent, even CIT… might be why he's so unstable… might have damaged him a bit." He trailed off in thought, his rich chocolate eyes staring into the space unknown.

Everyone else remained silent as the Courier contemplated. He snapped out of his reverie and shook himself like a dog coming out of water.

"We're going to Primm. Nash'll know where he is."

Boone looked like he was going to protest but the Courier eyed him warningly.

"They shouldn't charge in there blind, Boone. " He snapped at his friend. "If Ulysses is close by, and amenable, his input could be invaluable."

"If you can decipher it." Gannon muttered to no one in particular.

The Courier ignored that and glared grumpily at the wall. "And anyhow, I gotta report in to the Express office. I bought Max to Elder McNamara… My job is complete." He said with a nod of conviction before striding out of the repository.

The door slid closed behind him.

 **AN: So, I'm back. Do I have any readers left?**


End file.
